The Wrist - Dead Air lyrics

[Verse One]: A f**in' flying can of Spam hit ya Dick twisted in transistors Tighter than your pants your wide b**h tried to cram into Get slammed into Earth, cause fault lines and cross minds You got the right day but the wrong time, the gong chimes Close your hole you're fed your lunch in I'm taking out your tape Teddy Ruxpin Now nod your head to nothin' f** a proper introduction Start followin' instructions You're bothering the knuckleheads, my followin' is rugged Aww sh** Look who's about to walk this way That f**in' kid no not today Who forgot to lock his cage? Who let The Wrist out? He's going to flip out He's got a big mouth He offends crowds, his type of sh** I could live without Actin' crazed in car lots, spittin' razors and off top Amazin' when bars stop Cure AIDS with a cough drop Makin' your jaw drop Fix your face with a strong lock Dead bolt it, then ? with your own watch [Chorus]: Make 'em say "Eff yeah" My head just has to get clear Blow a hole in the radio and blast the dead air I need more quiet before I tear out my chest hair The end's near So k** the noise until I get there "k** that noise" - MC Shan 'k** That Noise' [Verse Two]: Obnoxious whoppin' this Serve ya like a pasta dish On some mobster sh** The response is monstrous You co*kless novices is still choppin' up Nautilus My subconscious is topless chicks and nauseousness like a drama flick Politics is bombin' the Congress with The marker in pocket quick Put a pause in your accomplishments like how a comma splits Conquer your confidence Cause your cottage to be total ? like a ? after a comet hits You're booted, now put a sock in it I rock it like gettin' stomped in a mosh pit on the day of godlessness Your conglomerate is not legit, it's obvious Chicks in sloppy tits is a rotten gift like socks and sh** Chuck a Vodka fifth to the esophagus And puff a Rasta spliff until we watchin' the third rock with binoculars f**in' up economies, accomplices is Communists You common as condiments I'm nice, like the Cosby kids It gets bummy, like it's rats where my closet is I don't shop at the Gap cause I ain't rich like Common is It's a cold world, frigid thermometers Lose faith like a priest fingering toddlers and dissing his promises You copped a brick, you choppin' it and clockin' it, that's awesome b**h But you ain't droppin' sh** like your squad's incontinent Plus the day your poppa's condom ripped When I stop it, I'll be posturing, holdin' my co*k like I got shot in it