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final thought - molemen lyrics

molemen ft. vak!ll * “final thought”
[emcee(s): vak!ll]
[producer(s): panik]
[scratches: mixx massacre]

[verse 1: vak!ll]
looking at my gucci, it’s about that time when i check hoes
stomp holes in n*ggas so deep, they’ll be rhyming in echoes
(in echoes) deep as the grave in rhyme when i’m engraving lines
don’t try to act brave and shine, save that for f*cking daylight savings time. i’m
the sh*t as a whole, no need for n*ggas to wanna know the half
i go to grab the mics when i throw the gab at emcees with the wrong
flow to have and unholy now. f*ck, blow the crab out the frame
but, luckily, half of you b*tches hardly ever make it to the photo lab
international, a ghetto celeb type. what i write [?]
[?] without a website internet [?]
[?] when you claiming rap pages in source, nikes
throwing their ass a bandage, and i’ll probably force christ on a cross twice
vak!ll the boogeyman (n*gga), [?] when i squeeze m*i*cs
your whole f*cking family dressed in black like the m.i.b.s
in my jurisdiction, not only will i severely injure his diction
but commence to slap kids the f*ck back like a pez candy dispenser
smoke an author’s ass to ash/ashe like arthur’s last name, mayne
with more drunken fist techniques than an alcoholic abusive father has
f*ck you thought? save that before surgeons be getting costly
why spit flows when men are pausing? like rented cars, it’s p*ssy enough
to leave even the most masculine n*gga menopausing, so f*ck throwing in the towel
with that style, throw in your whole motherf*cking linen closet
y’all verbally b*tton*wet, n*gga [?]
‘cause if i was to cum on your eye right now, n*gga, you still ain’t see nutting/nothing yet
not a sudden threat, this a full*scale, whole assault, and since y’all running
out of ideas, then here’s one: think about my nuts and hold that thought
[verse 2: vak!ll]
i was told it ain’t
how fat the rhyme is but the billfold from a half a mill’ sold
and n*ggas on new york nuts with raps when any size or sk!ll show
not what you was popping less than a year ago when your ass
was putting out records, campaigning ‘bout keeping it real and lyrical
hypocritical ass, typical trash you produced, they gassed you up
since you finally made a record that sold at critical mass. b*tch, please
f*ck you and your missed marks ‘cause y’all not only on east and west coasts’
d*ck soft. y’all n*ggas getting it up the nose like tricks’ sores, so
stop manning your stations ‘cause the cannon you’re facing’s a verbal
gun*clapper about to give y’all ass a standing ovation
why in the f*ck these overnight [?]
‘cause they started making tracks with keyboards instead of piano loops
and nothing decent’s been coming from out their ass since. in the last
tenths of a milliseconds, sh*t that they thought was next was past*tense
and none of that sh*t you find incredible stun me
wetting your ass with flows sweeter than diabetic f*gs sporting edible undies
so expect it ‘cause y’all were selected to die hectic
deaf dialectic, i never let bullsh*t slide even if it’s electric
your whole dilemma’s facing elimination, riding the next
n*gga d*ck, trying to take credit for artificial insemination
cheap imitation, buy your generic sh*t, but i’m more
than capable of getting in n*ggas’ asses with a biogenetic fit and then
running up in their slimmies’ colons, breaking these kids’ flows
like semicolons, no question i could halve any f*cking opposition. y’all
see me holding my d*ck and scr*t*m. after i kick [?]
it comes to sk!ll, watch your fast b*tch*ass copping some steel
and rapid ducks bleed at rabbit*f*ck speed, vocab that succeeds
and bust a nut while all these wack*ass n*ggas swallow and suck seed
read the fine print. if you’re like me, the alignment’s done torn out
p*ssies in ways unimaginable, left running v*g*n*l flow, so
this is a full*blood assault, n*ggas that wasn’t so b*tter cough
(“say something now”) yeah, n*gga, that’s what i thought

- molemen lyrics

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