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money & food (mf) - rodan lyrics

rodan * “money & food (mf)”
[emcee(s): rodan]
[producer(s): just blaze (original instrumental from jay*z * “public service announcement”)]

[verse: rodan]
they call me
full*clip ro’, flip dough, orbit eclipse elliptical
jaguar claw, apocalypto. y’all need to quit it
just admit it: most committed, best that ever did it
in the know like bo, aslan, chronicles like ridd*ck
i’m ruthless, fool, you’s a toothless dude. hit you with a
good combination like music and food, stomp you out
with some exclusive shoes, hold up my watch
sh*t’s a problem. watch it transform like a rubik’s cube
original, most pure, perfect organism, hold up my pinky ring
my pinky ring shines like the whole solar system
no matter how much steel you can lift off your chest
you can’t stop no steel when it rip through your flesh
it peels off the vest, sk!lls off the texts, put it into wills
put it into coffins, mold it into crack, peace*pipes
put it to rest. we’re getting mills, so, god, be blessed
cyphers filled big, we the best like:
riding with the nine in the dash, i’m here to refine the craft
then strip the intellectual ass*bets out the art form
frowned*upon, frrraggot*ass n*ggas, y’all gotta
clown just to get on, so i’m rhyming, flying over your
motherf*cking head—that’s the style i’m on. intellectual
matters, big*word status, hurt with the automatic
apparatus, ain’t shy about flipping a bird
and using your chickenheads for target practice like
going 50 through block or battling kimbo slice
in callisthenic fights or taking up phonetic flight
hold up my wrist, my wrist look like a bunch of paramedic lights
sounds of rain wash, throw dreams down the drain
the ounce of prevention now worth a pound of pain
at least a pound of ‘caine. came down, broke, the whole
town insane, hood rats knocked up, baby daddies
locked up, can’t put the guns down, so they’re oxed up
soap*and*socked up. mm, boom! c*cksucker, where my
plate at? b*tch, pass me a hot cup. bloodclots
f*cked so long as my watch stay rocked up
and sp*wn the deepest fan base, a bunch of streetmasons
advance like p*wns and swarmed in with secret handshakes

- rodan lyrics

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