Gang Way

Lyrics

{ialive} Gang Way, it's heating up for the posse cut Still the rhymes stay colder than a hockey puck Everyone all around trying to copy us But can't repeat what it is, we make it obvious Fake imposter rosters can't rock with us The language beautiful like the colors on an octopus Rocksteady like a mutated rhinoceros With more variety and evolution than Galapagos {Height Keech} Bomb tossing, beat bashing. boys crossing the lines Like the five man electric, out smashing the signs I made wine from the vines, plus the mead in the mill I hit the drum in the night, when it was quiet and still I'm John Frum on the hill, with a boat full of goods Driving trucks full of bills, to a shrine in the woods My minds growing, out-glowing all the corniest creeps With the meanest team going, got the cleanest of sweeps {Hemlock Ernst} Any mandible can cannibal your life in my hands Candling branches filled with pamphlets on supply in demand Suppyling vitamins daily, your five alive in a jam I concentrate, wildstyle the force I operate Formulas of positive forces The negative, vibrate and resonate through corridors Back alleys and choruses For tourists of the tearing eye, coarse as tongues tested and tried To escape, the stream of corpses, to the palace inside {Goldzilla} Three Sculpture phones, two of them on call waiting At my shrink's office staring at a cat painting All my friends are alive and doing work XL coogi shirt bigger than uzi vert Looking for a betty white to slow dance Hoping the inferno drops betty wright at slow jams Only rap for the sport and tom foolery Just warming up to take over for chuck woolery {PT Burnem} Diving off the edge and into a forgotten land Briefcase trusty plus the rhyme stands Heisman hand No stage, no shoes, no etiquette Hit you with the wild Bruce Lee type kinetic shit We keep it under 32 and do it coast to coast One up to Speak N' Eye, One up to Bowie's ghost One up to any who illuminate a dark place That common purpose is connecting us through time and space {Mister} Whole world spinning has me feeling Tasmanian Minus the leather vest repping Harley Davidson Buck naked, frothing at the mouth If you're sitting on your ass, then I'm fucking up your couch A price menace at any store that I might visit Never give a free pass to a mic midget Standard protocol since I was a tyke little Ketchup and Mustard man coming with them diced pickles