busty women - serengeti lyrics
[verse]
[?]
i eat corn flakes with milk and toast
and travel coast to coast
on the back of pigeons
subscription to the fiction called rap
[?] the darkest web of american [?]
like we the opium
like ed allen poe
i gotta swim when the tide is low
so all the [?] can show
you know the busty women
i keep my lyrics blending
with the maseratis
i’m praying mantis with no leads
my science project collect leaves
like the token
my ninja wooden bokken was big
got tooken by the cops
because i accidentally knocked some kid
yo when you switch like a company’s pitch
to influence the african americans
in the greatest land
full of bribes and tide changes
with the television
i use my spectre vision
update my rap edition
with it as smooth as yoghurt
i’m doing yoga right outside cordoba
i’m taking over
this [?]
so overlord i’m ready
yo make my head real big
and put me on a statue
and put a shark’s fin on my dome
and make me fly instead
and i can fight gorillas
yo, honour me with a sculpture on a pillar
make my grill real big and make my nose…
make me switch colours when i switch my mood
rude boy like b-ttons and purple prince coats
gloat like ordinary mcs
thugs [?] grandmothers
and don’t support [?]
now that’s honour
that’s karma to paint the town paisley
i wanted babies
make america less savoury
enough tripping
i’m dipping through a bag of [?]
with my fishing pole
drinking bush
operation get kush
doing this i was pushed
i’d rather be a ordinary [?]
on a team member
my vacation in december
and win a blender for my impressive sales
sing that song [?]
makes the vultures swarm
go to sleep like lukewarm milk and bunkbeds
spread love like john lennon said
i carry red balloons
live in a small room full of knick-knacks
and mad hats to cover my ident-ty
double indemnity
no remedy
ain’t no rules in rap that could combat this
colours like tricks mixed in this braggado
[?]
crucial
rap star on the earth
broken bottles on 91st
peace to [?]
the fire smoulders so i can’t get older
i’m pulling over
be on the bus dreaming about london
forget about the dungeon
a dog’s breath is funky
i like my grits chunky with sauce
[?] like the germans
i’m gonna get those bourbons
face the wall like blair witch
what a son of a gun
this rapping has me [?]
who under the d-mn sun
every day, every
yo, number, number one
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