knowledge ii - dopey ziegler lyrics
[verse 1]
listen, these sixteen ways to kick raps
will make your jaw drop, sparking virality cl!ckbacks
never pause, stop writing no biting or skipped tracks
when the claws drop to tables enable a sick scratch
write for herbs and the purses of nerd dads
knowledge ock, block verses of words in wordpad
a solid plot to get em written no fiction i burn past
all of your surrogate murders with my thermos and zip bag
yep, me and pearman has never been mismatched
and all the coattail riders get severed and dispatched
since back in thousand five we been doper than fit hats
and though of late i’m taking classes yo scope it: the spits back
peep the nicest, make a beat with maschines and neat devices
these writes is what precise is, rewrite if you seek the likeness
do not front, as your slight’ll precede a crisis
i know you ain’t tryna scheme on a demon that leaves you lifeless
[verse 2]
shtayim, beat biblical bust out broke beaters
cause the rhyme*speak’s physical plus we wrote heaters
and i ain’t really up for dawkins but don’t court believers
tho i’m psyched to see my piece is discussed among social readers
practiced with the hands and i treat a dame saintly
plus the pillow talk is makin fun of puas mainly
stately, think it might just be the fame lately
but i might just be the greatest conceived in the late eighties
f*cks never fade me, i l*st for mercedes
and can suss when you just isn’t busting it greatly
jesus couldn’t save me, get duffed if you play me
timbo stompin on your wack as f*ck chucks on the daily
so, i know you know i know my foes are naughty
i’m tryna come up like keanu when he knows karate
yet to wake up in a chrome bugatti
but i am probably the rap game shalom shabazi
[verse 3]
and orca whales roll in matrilines clans and communities
with dialects so i respect their rights due to fluency
who is me? bar kokhba, son of star, tunefully
ruining beats, foolish peeps are soon to be, truant, yee
rappers i consume with ease, crews ain’t h*lla rude to me
i rule the beat, head up on the throne i never puke in streets
ladies think i’m super neat, never shoot like ludovic
cruisin streets, used to be fiendin for a stupid jeep
beep beep, st**z is so profane and hyperliterate
and if you k!ll that sh*t when spittin writs i might consider it
otherwise just shut your sh*tter d*ck cause i be willing it
and y’all dont wanna get up in a tiff with my recidivists
i’m just wack a little bit, y’all just sound like dips and sh*t
pistol whipped and whether slizzered zip without a chick to frick
conscious, yes, but minimalist, if you can remember this
it’s simple scripts that’s iller than the little pen theyre scribbled wit
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