Veil of Maya - The Session lyrics

Published

0 224 0

Veil of Maya - The Session lyrics

[Vigor Lynx:] (We gonna do it like this) The supreme human being Smoking a sh**load of trees Focused on intervening Put a little bit of rock on the block And watch everybody get high from it There's no contest of the flow More complex than my ebonics You can't get wit' it I'm not sick witted, I'm sick wit' it It's like a crime they committed, But just like O.J., I'mma get acquitted Sittin' on a fistful of dope Hid it all by the city I'mma star like that thing that was hanging off of Janet's titty (n***a) Brutal as Brutus and Caesar, Giving speakers seizures There's no time for sh**, Let alone leisure Bustin' boat rockin', show stoppin', Heart droppin', chart toppin', script out Shows that make paraplegics flip out n***as, they be bustin' with their clip out Sellin Wolf tickets, But when the sh** kicks off They hoppin' over pickets Addin' the Veil of Maya to my mind frame Now I'mma let Getatem get at 'em and do the damn thing (This is nothin') [Getatem:] I've got the pesos, the G, And the francs, and the dinaro With triple triple zeros in my safe Hannah Montaro You think the sk**s pay the bills, huh? Only if you say so, fool Then why you ridin' a [????] Money stacked like Legos? 'Cause I'm an incredible Intelligent individual Rhymin' is my ritual I'm 100% spiritual In this spirit I hear it comin' from your heart From my dawgs In the dark Light it up, it's time to spark On the dutch master While we at the superbowl Entertainment for your mind, body, and soul It's mind control You can find me at the gas station Buyin' hundred gallons of gas Hundred gallons of gin To cloud my mind when I sin Climb the top rope Three shots to the crown Now he's dead [Note: the previous 3 lines is a reference to Dimebag Darrell being k**ed with 3 shots to the head] I'm still undisputed 'Cause I eluded every shell Buckshots sailing record time Makin' yo' head swell Oh well [Note: Dimebag Darrell's shooter was taken out with buckshot to the head] b**hes tryin' to f** with my mail And now you tossin' salads in the penitentiary cell You fake MCs see my face And yo' a** get pale I wait 'til the last second And drive a rusty nail Through your arm (arm), leg (leg), and head And make you burn in hell

You need to sign in for commenting.
No comments yet.