*Bonus Track* One Take In The Basement

Lyrics

[Intro] Uh chilling The Eugenic's basement, Big Wax Herbal T, my man on the side of me, most definitely Going to get into Something real hot you know what I'm saying It's like this, uh it's like this Uh it's like [Verse] Yo it's big wax all up in your face like a retina scan With lyrics so sick they got their own Aetna plan I bet you can not get the jam hot like I do Your battle lyrics sound like haiku, you've been lied to If someone said you were nice I'm getting off like the cops never read me my rights You bеtter think twice Beforе you show-and-prove 'Cause taking my title, that's a no-can-do Your whole damn crew is so damn stu- -Pid that you probably get kidnapped By a dude with the super soaker and an old pencil I'm all mental, making you call your dental Office to make an appointment for your over biting tactics Writing whack shit I'm lighting fat spliffs Using your promotional Flyers as a torch You get scorched then thrown into the fire I'm hot like forest fires, you little like [?] I'm shining like spotlights you not tight like the poorest pliers Straight out of a 1976 Rusty toolbox kid I got more Bank than pool shots psyche I'm broken I'm cheap I haven't even had my own pack of smokes In a week I creep to the Chinese buffet to eat supper there Meet me in the back I'll be the dude with the Tupperware I take a broad out for a number two and fries If it's a birthday I might let her super size I utilize my skill to dehumanize it will And brutalize and kill you stupid guys You chill and scrutinize Until you realize I'm Ill I smother pussies like Vagisil Or maybe douche goddamn I get loose MCs just falling off the roof like Tupac at the end of Juice I'm infected with sickness Quarantine the area and exit with quickness 'Cause beating me is hard my steez is remorseless Eating three chard MCs in three courses People leave scarred like seeds from divorces Waxes deep like manatees and seahorses My nephew's been on Ritalin Since he was three hyperactive with ADD Has trouble sitting still when he watches TV I guess while he was in the uterus he heard my CD I hate these quack motherfuckin' MC's with no rhythm Talking about the lyrics is hot but can't spit them Writing sentences and random-ly trying to fit them in line Shut the fuck up you're wasting my time You sound bitch Put your mic back in your purse And hit the Jack as I kick a spectacular verse You hear my shit and suddenly get Dracula's curse You start fighting, your writing, and your rapping is worse Than anything I ever heard in a long ass time I'd rather eat my own shit than listen to you rhyme I'd rather shoot myself in the face with a nine I'd rather be armless, legless, deaf, dumb, and blind I hate your shit, I rate your shit real poorly Eat a bag of cocks, kid, I rocks like a quarry I get a lot of Glory 'cause I'm clutch like Robert Horry At the final minute, my wood chippers got your vinyl in it They call me Mr DJ, 'cause I'm literally cutting your record up My self-confidence is bad for my mental health I jerk off imagining I'm fuckin' myself The stealth bomber technique, Vietnam on a Beat The dominant heat got me up the constant repeat On your CD player, tape player, turntable stereo, AM, FM, satellite radio Xbox with the DVD option in every channel, on your TV, that you're watching I be the Wax like turtle, and a hurdle any necessary obstacle, to drive you mental like Mariah Carey's Hospital Defeating me seems very possible, if someone put a drop of acid on your cherry Popsicle I flow from summer to winter and make the energizer bunny seem like a short distance sprinter, Biatch! I'm about to go off to the microwave and cook myself a Hungry Man instant dinner I'm real hungry and shit. Bitch! What?