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narcolepsy (the cosby effect) - coal cash lyrics

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“k!ll me i’m here, do it!”

when i speak it y’all should treat it like the emperor’s edict
comedic cuz they like to sleep on me like a tempur-pedic
bulimic flood from bowls of blood on the punchline
your rhymes ain’t eating sh-t, fit for anorexic lunch time
you’re c-nt slime, you remind me of v-g-n-l flow
a hoe on the rag, a douchebag with no actual hole
i’ll toe tag your swag persona then stab your mama
tomahawk your thoughts, turn part of your corpse to a badge of honor
i’m mad beyond the genre’s g*nius, of monster’s fiendish
supremely fit to f-ck your b-tch cuz she wants the p-n-s
the meanest sh-t, spit this side of galactic sp-ce
syntactic tactics shape the atlas of synaptic scapes
creating blackness i’m an ocean flowing frozen wind
been rape theatrics, you don’t want it when i’m going in
the golden spin, stuck up -sshole like a gloating win
you been encapsuled stuck up -ss hole like a roman gym
deep in the fractal state of mind, supernatural design
i’m winding off the axle to unravel the shackles of time
divine gavel, i travel at the speed of thought
teleport through cosmic seas but never have to leave new york
i’ll feed your corpse to these moss covered acres
capers occur but nothing’s hungrier than mother nature
another labor to savor i am the bed provider
surprise you’re dead i was bred to take the head from hydras
getting liver than a walking dead survivor
driving a tiger tank over your flanks, i am the rank divider
i’ll drive a shank through your memory bank
until it shrank your sensory til you’re mentally blank
length of entropy vs plank’s constant
drank contents of quantum chemistry kinetic sea of conscious
a complex energy my ent-ty’s a frequency
that is free to plead prophetically but heavily they sleep on me

the culture’s starving fans lament without attempt to feed it
needed to rest slept on the best like a tempur-pedic
content to leave it they don’t need it and they never will
sk!lls at counting sheep when they sleep on me like benadryl
my pen is ill and it will instill a truth in all
walls are aura form like chloroform built from rohypnol
my proof is all in the pudding, i guess it’s still a hobby
probably not fulfilled, the game is popping pills with bill cosby

i write the dopest with a m-ss appeal that’s isotopic
the psychotropic flash forward through the psychic focus
the mic explosive corrosive from a nitric dosage
we boasted might causing fright when i write ferocious
the gnosis plight was smite for the flight of icarus
i’m sick of this life, so ignite with a strife ubiquitous
i’m sick with this mic a liquidus type of strike compatible
radical when i write plus i’m faster than light’s collateral
a magical splice with a concise calculation
in relation to the voucher of alpha-amalgamation
algorithmic equation in computation of my data mine
designed for abjuration of compilations that you had in mind
cadavers line my trail blaze like wild western railways
i wage to raise sails, in gust of gale hoping to hail praise
only engage to fail so drive a nail through my open palms
beyond the world of flesh so i welcome death with open arms
nothing to see here, keep it moving no attention needed
believing my pen is filled with benadryl my sk!lls are tempur-pedic
your sense anemic to the blood loss on these bars
fell hard from your bed smacked your head only to see stars
r-t-rd your aura if you swore you saw a purer form
perform it frequently but you sleep on me like chloroform
euphoria swarm, people cerebral waiting for truth to call
housed all in the booth further proof that we’re rohypnol

(hook)

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