ph.d (playing the hand dealt) - r.u.i.n. lyrics
(verse 1)
they on their shania twain, don’t impress me much/
look stupid, like presley in a blue suit and tux/
i’m built so strong yet so smooth, like a mazda truck/
my only sk!ll’s getting flukes, cause i mastered luck/
my mind tapped like oil reserves in alberta/
got nerve son? / to face machine gun flows with nerf guns?! /
pew pew/ the game is my property/ so i’m telling
all y’all dogs to get off my lawn, so shew shew/ don’t bother me/
y’all illusionsts, got your tricks, no real dudes/
got punch houdini in his kidney lines, they’ll k!ll you/
so just give me my whip and my cowboy hat/
cause i’m about to spit, indie—anna jones rap/
spitting christina aguilera rhymes/ cause their
beautiful, no matter what they say, every line/
lyrically murderous dexter, k!ll tracks in a dark room/
they dexter too, but more like the cartoon/
(hook) (x2)
ain’t here to takeover or multiply/
or mutate, but wait’s over, i’m playing this game/
playing the hand i’m dealt, giving a try/
ain’t nothing else, cause the dealer knows my own name/
(verse 2)
if ye’ could do “all falls down” and “jesus walks” /
excuse me, if i go all b-lls out with jesus talk/
so if no i.d. can scratch resurrection/
don’t mind me if i attach these verses to records/
gold there is, rubies in abundance too but/
lips that speak knowledge and wisdom are a rare jewel son/
uni & hiphop are good fit settle in/
got this/ god blessed me with the 5th element/ knowledge/
when people talk to god it’s praying, but check it/
but when god talks to people you call them schizophrenic/
i’m out the ward, ready for open mic/ but when i
stroke it right, it opens up for me, hope there’s
“life/ after death” but don’t pray hustler’s prayer, i pray
the lord’s/ god gave me rebirth, i cut my own cord/
i found, once more/ these rappers flaw/ they got
swag, not righteousness, i’m swag backwards ‘gaws’/
(hook) (x2)
(verse 3)
gotta hold down the block like a loose lego piece/
cause these lil’ kids stay high like a falsetto screech/
violence pervades from the malls to the streets/
so i’m asking the lord to lay me by a sweet meadow beach/
i say i need someone to beat on/ i just need someone
to lean on/ someone’s love to feed from/ to see my seed sp-wn/
but i sold my soul to god, won’t ask for a refund’ /
i refuse to be a tall tree trunk for these dogs to pee on! /
if i’m at my best when i’m a fighter, then i’ll never have peace/
but i’d rather spit truth than a clever -ss tweet/
y’all wanna-be revolutionary, but ain’t do sh-t/
never tutored the kids/ or move food with crews off the skids/
all you do is make stupid excuses too quick/ til your
train of intuitions go swift chew chew off lucid grids/
so about god’s people and the game, i got many cares/
guess i gotta become the answer to my many prayers/
(hook) (x2)
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