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anyway - chee malabar lyrics

i’m back spittin’ that gaudy rap
that shorty swag rap with a hot toddy flask
rowdy roddy piper pile-driver drop his -ss
rhyme writer, refined mind that brought it back
save your autograph, i stamp mine on bodycasts
they’re clottey -ss-i pacquiao them then i caught a cab
for my audience, except we on a spotty ave
rock that ‘knock knock’ joint for my hollis cats—
mo spit his verse, queens asked, “where the body bags?
or where gotti at? who organized that sort of wrath?”
we don’t holler back, spit raps, swallow that
and call us back when your numbers look like college math
i know i sound like an -ss, i acknowledge that
but these raps don’t write themselves, that’s where my solace at
you don’t like it? here’s my kn-b, go on polish that-
oh i’m sorry, i didn’t see them dollar stacks

verse 2
it’s that burning tire artisan
that yearning for the higher self when it’s dark again
the hard parts to start, stop, then start again
in a parked car spilling gin on my cardigan
feeling harder since, mo said, “we barging in.”
harking back to the point of my origin
coins in my pocket coppin’ clothes out that bargain bin
peep my arc again, that imi marketing
fly to death like saudi pilots seeking martyrdom
gave it all i had yet still you want more from him
middle finger up, a-l-i said, “orient them.”
t said, “subt-tle it, they treat you like a foreign film.”

verse 3
ardamus
ignite start car fires
rinse mouths hard barb wire
flavored smoothies, take your groupie
and make a movie called gaming suzie
..or taming lucy
whatever sounds better bro
perverted nerd who not street credible
cause i never sold white man
look on facebook i lose a few white fans
now, i need a new nice dance
hipster chicks bleed through their white pants
bad santa in the summer i drop in
got a head start to p-ss on your stockin’
hold fights, i’m pickin’ grudges
poetry slam and drop kick the judges
br-ss knuckle finger bang, yeah i’m singin’ strange
toilet water in your brain, yeah, we’re gonna need to drain

- chee malabar lyrics

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