Split Prophets & Mystro - The Menu | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• Split Prophets & Mystro
• The Menu

(Mystro)
Yeah yeah split prohphets
MysDiggi

(Verse One: Mystro)
It goes
Here ye here ye
No need to fear me
Just open your ears
And let me know when you hear me
Through the smoke and the mirrors
Still most see it clear
He always did it like there's no need for nearlys
The phantom menace getting love like he was bad at tennis
Keep your cabbage shredded take your bud and leave a bag of lettuce
Step in the dragons den with the head of a dab apprentice
Yeah that's the message I'm betting yes this in cash or credit
Nah for real who's got a piss pot to lend me
I wouldn't even ask if my fridge wasen't empty
Run up in south park to rob them kids for their pennies
Shouting show me your face holding a slingshot to kenney
Animal with the door keys dangling from his claws
Trespassing in to the yard of those babbling things that bore me
Sat on the kitchen floor screaming I'm trying to fucking eat
I'm like a sexualy deprived cannibal in an orgy
(?)
Now what's next on the menu

(Verse Two: Upfront MC)
Yo
We drop knowledge like a bungee jumping college professor
Demolish the wreck up any set more than a hobby don't test us
We're just staring your going nowhere like a ?
Raping a beat fuck asking since ?
Seen the sun setting on the scene for a bit
But it's back now though pop music ?
? telling you something that dosen't exist
Come and left the game so under equipped the sons of a bitch
See hip hops rising again though I won't slow till
They fire bieber and i find miley cyrus on death row
If you give me two minutes and the next instrumental I'll kill it
Then give it life again with the lead in my pencil
Hip hops an essential that's damn right I shout it's name proudly
And stay doing me untill the day my graves found me ?
My heads spinning off my neck untill my brains rowdy self destructive
Insane south three

(?)
Arghhhh who's next on the menu

(Verse Three: Res)
Hi I'm mr nice when the chronics sparked
But catch me with a brandy getting angry if my wallets parched
Mind sweeped forgotten bars barking like a rotti starved
Lost rotten volatile child with bags of rocks to char
I'm hear to hop the bar turn around and raise it like a topped up glass
Doctor what's the charge for my medication an eighth and some meditation
Painting the day with the paper and pen that's when my brain reinstates me again
So spin the ? to make your back break
Last take I burnt my loose ends empty ashtrays and empty hands take on skinny arms
The city psalms are never written like a pretty ? in history class
? hit you hard like skunk blunts
Hungry for this music like I hit the bars for lunch munch
Through mics cause my food price has hit the mark of to high price
It's just life in my boots right

(Dat Kid)
Urgghhh what is next on the menu

(Verse Four: Dat Kid)
Yo it's the cheeky prophet trying to feed his bulimic pockets
And eating till his teeth are rotten without even stopping
Keep on jotting notes spitting till I got a froggy throat
Foggy smoke fills my lungs as I keep you bobbing
Listen closely you might just hear my stomuch shrinking
Screaming at me bruv stop drinking what you fucking thinking
Then you'll see me running round shouting something loud ?
Cause I've just lost my last fucking pound keep my muzzle bound
I might just munch through everything I'm out for anything
From your rollies to your telly kid get it in nah that ain't really happpning
I'm broke like an old tire stashed in a scabbies bin
But still I get on with my daily pursuits stand straight in my boots
Driven since I raised from my roots in a room with pens paper and zoots
Bringing out shit that'll make your granny's hips snap each eighth of the loop

There's nothing left you greedy cunts you ate it all

Split Prophets & Mystro еще тексты