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walk through (the beatnikz remix) - c-rayz walz lyrics

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c-rayz walz ft. rob sonic – “walk through (the beatnikz remix)”
[emcee(s): c-rayz walz and rob sonic]
[producer(s): the beatnikz (frank blank and lil jay)]

[intro: c-rayz walz]
walk towards the future with my best friend’s essence
every time we p-ss/past, he’s present whenever

[hook: c-rayz walz and rob sonic] (x2)
i walk through the ghetto, holding my
d-ck… tionary (word?). others are mad and
p-ssed i exist off of spit, and they’re
still trapped in ignorance (bliss)

[verse 1: c-rayz walz]
go a.w.o.l. to a seasonal track
didn’t wash my b-lls—y’all season my sack
unless i get brain dirtied and lose my mind—that’s when
i can’t hear you (come on). show me a sign
‘cause i could smell tw-t from a mile away. bought
your lipstick. what’d you start to say?
this is wild animal p-ss of various kind, every
flask that was grasped in blab lab, combined
combined. what the f-ck is going on here? wait
last minute of my life’s been a long year. at the
end of the day, i’m the old of the night. for the
end of the week, my flow’s the monthly type
curious, serious, heavy, and thick
case-closed, i drip—get pads, i’ll flood them sh-ts (flood)
(them sh-ts) with the essence of life (life). why
stress what i write when i just [?]

[hook: c-rayz walz and rob sonic] (x2)
i walk through the ghetto, holding my
d-ck… tionary (word?). others are mad and
p-ssed i exist off of spit, and they’re
still trapped in ignorance (bliss)

[verse 2: c-rayz walz and (rob sonic)]
get touched, (rushed by the homicide bus)
my life’s like my nights—(yo, them sh-ts is scuff). i did it
up enough. (my elevator’s [?]). i can’t
wait to leave/leaf—(i’m camouflage)
be tough, (knuck if you buff). we strut
(let’s kickbox) with a cop car like, “what?” (wake)
(the sleepers up). laying in the cut like pus. (sure)
(enough, i’m the master—my glow don’t rust). sky-
-walk, sidewalk, jedi-mind torch your thoughts
next to freeze you like cyborg reports. chewbacca
ankles move packs swift as hairy, hairy men
who endorse hits. ewoks take shorts and rock furry timbs
glocks bury friends. stop and prop, check the very end
hide the odor when they ride with yoda. players choose layer
over broken lightsabers. i’ve been raw, open up
in indoors, snuff stormtroopers who work with tinfoil

[hook: c-rayz walz and rob sonic] (x2)
i walk through the ghetto, holding my
d-ck… tionary (word?). others are mad and
p-ssed i exist off of spit, and they’re
still trapped in ignorance (bliss)

[verse 3: rob sonic]
don’t let the digital readout begin
tofu shooters get the lead-out vegan
no use for you since the rent remains
the same like a song written on empty trains
pants has the buckle that has your name in it
like page six, work force faced with wage limit
i’ll rock you. just skate to the dawn to pay plymouth
for not using your brains like them sh-ts was day minutes

[verse 4: c-rayz walz]
roll over and fall out of bed
thoughts fall out of your head. you’re reborn dead. my steel
feel like a pimple—i need to pop. i got
ravi, my replacement for a pops. and i
licensed my song to help your cd drive. i will
dead the rumors when you see me live, so no
condom on selective thoughts—my brain raw. last
time in texas, i yapped, “every chain saw”
ready for the end, i learned to start. no
escape from reality, can’t turn to art
f-ck that! my religion is bust back
cross between lizard, dog, cat, and muskrat
tried to be the man of the house but couldn’t wear pants
or you had to take shorts and square-dance
worms in your brain must have you try, god, while you’re
stuck between izod and ipod

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