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the great xiv (freestyle) - mastamiind lyrics

[verse]
i’m never liable, my guys tell me to try a psychiatrist
might as well site and look on a site and find what’s wrong
with my mind, annihilate my rate
pirate a part and tear apart ya pirates
and then gyrate on a dyk-, light, right minded
to the case, i say, a nihilist with a violent diarist
to keep advice to myself, to keep the metal and pedal
bike ride life with a twist like if the sh-t had a screw loose
“check the maniac in”, i’m a mental cyclist
widely regarded, as a human pack of dog
i’m bumping asher roth, walking in the store eating applesauce, go then to slap ya grandfather
while he’s in a sauna with a dry lobster
then go to his home, with a hoe across his lawn squatting
then if possible slaughter his granddaughter
with a sawing iron, if i go forward
i go backwards with words, pardon
if i accidentally run into ya with bags that you got from target
and a cup of starbucks coffee, walking wobbly walking
naked and drunk in the parking lot
looking lost as f-ck plus my b-lls spray painted gold
i’m talking insults, crossing another car that was driving
on top, but not on topic, you just got your hair done
screaming at me, after i said what’s wrong with you blondy
mad at me, then walk away like nothing f-cking happened, ignoring, then come back to say “sorry
i’m either stupid or slightly r-t-rded”
targeting, to throw my problems in the glove compartment, bombarded, charted, and brought upon a f-ck ton of problems, solve it, throw ya motherf-cking bullsh-t you talking into a tarpit, -rs-nic, toxic, acid, with a pack of -ssets
flames from my palms, then let ya -ss set
effective, never respective, to the male s-x
who’s fine with coming out doors with a chic dress
for less at jcpenney f-cking rejects, get off my planet
f-ck being disrespectful, i can’t stand these dreaded f-ggots
little pansy, going chanting, i’m the chimpanzee
that went bananas in ya pantry panting blatanly remixing
“panda”, banshee who tells me i’m more of a man
to pack a punch then a can of pain
i’m having the game losing it’s straw
breaking a camel’s spine alignment
in the making, bracing for more than i can chew on
loser choosing, intrusive, and still maneuver
out of the box, and think outside of it
h-ll where i desk my bars, but i’m not a student
i’m a god and sh-t, i have no room for improvement
deuces to the ones who think i’m losing
i’m not moving from my spot, like tom cruise in south park
these f-ggots got hats off like the graduated from college
lawless, that i can run a track, flawless
now give me a lamb to slaughter
i’m the one to throw spades, and cutthroat
with the card, invading, racing, pace
cut paths like i amputate, then throw a hand grenade
at the meter maid and fade away before her f-cking hand
and legs disintegrate, but as soon i’m in a new lane
i met a quadriplegic who saw me, like i cut a peg
and said “i gotta hand it to ya that took a arm and a leg today”
i’m hazely throwing f bombs at a g-y parade
they parading coming out the closet and sh-t
pause it, reverse and then pace the case
with no case of patience and erase their faces
with an actual eraser out of my f-cking walk way
and, this is my cadence if you don’t like it
then get out my face then, blatant
get ya f-cking cranium outta of your -n-s
and smell the fragrance of hatred
i never need an acquaintance debating
going on a hiatus until slim shady
comes out with that album i’ve been awaiting
then come back as a mason making the basics of chopping bricks seem really vacant as soon as i do the do
i’ll slap a satanist b-st-rd in his or her f-cking face in
face them just dying to slap the cr-p out of the f-ggot
with a hot plate of bacon, face it
i’ll never change my behavior, my bars are glaciers
tailor the way i smoothly work on my craft
i make and might as well throw away that piece of paper
f-ck that throw the whole pack in the trash
don’t be mad or sad, that when i say sh-t
i’m a sailor, it’s second nature, the way i slay
and regurgitate your disfavor, cut ya face off like nicholas cage, and chop ya -ss with a razor, away
never explain why i hate g-ys, dominate
and then concave your f-cking face in a microwave on labor day, penetrate, on the interstate
m-st-rbate to ariana grande in a lingerie
teasing away while i jack off with mayonnaise
i’m that insane that i don’t even have to try to motivate
instead i chop your vertebrae then partic-p-te
in a paper chase and it look like it ran away
ventilate, through the faces, then dump every last one
in tub of gatorade, and radar them, it’s in my database
matter of fact in my dna, integrate, and set ablaze
you jackanapes, i’m a basket case
throwing f-ggots in a basket case
and i interplay you f-ggots couldn’t even steal 50 cent lemonade, blow a head gasket, i’m off, never well balanced
my d-ck is the size of a castle, i’m a cl-ssic act
k!ll the cl-ss clown in cl-ss with a gat
and then slap the cr-p out of him
with a f-nny pack, playing “fack” by eminem in the back
i’m stretching the truth my d-ck is 7 and a half inches
standing from the balcony of a marriott
i’m a dare a lot, say f-ck you all, until i run into it
bade my problems like a paralipsis
paradise is thrown into a paradox, and puck the pack
and nice, i don’t play that, i’m a parasite, with a case of lice
itching to do what i do best, cause stress upon stress
i drip with nothing but sl!ck bars
like i’m sweating in the desert setting with a fur jacket
wanting to jack away a drink from somebody
and punch ya in the face and escape
so get ya -ss back, backslash my sword goes backwards
forward with war, warn you no more
more and more goar, like baseball
you should get the catch, you a wh0r-
kl-sterf-k of f-ckers f-ck ya mother with my c-ck
it’s not cl!cking, the luck, the busters, the bust
and the busta busta, you bucking, and buck under caution, socking you, lock it and block it up
and causing ruckus with no l-st of messing up
and like rusting i eat away at frustration
chasing my patience, then throw ya head into a elevator railing and cover your blood over the camera surveillance
then throw your head into a moving truck
until ya skull and shoulders are off in order
you can’t explain why i’m sick like ebola
rolling in coal, so evil and vile
enough to steal your child while my freestyle is in the background, f-ck it i’m signing out, unannounced
obnoxious motherf-cker with problems as soon i pick up a pen, start fire with my mind to remind you
win with sins and send on instruments
and i’m fresher than you have been
if this was an song itself i’d probably be done by then

- mastamiind lyrics

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