nayacci - zinedin o. lyrics
they say every ending is a new beginning
my first paycheck is your first pension
witness to my ascension, i’m so ahead of my time
i got a grandfather clock and my mom is still t–thin’
so you best bother not with tryin’ to get even
what did i do? this all stems from your jealousy
and then some, just look at the mirror, see i’m your idol
latent biting, blatant to the enlightened
satan’s writing to conservatives, ain’t concerned a bit
about their perception, i’m a walking contradiction
a baby christened out of wedlock, ’cause i’m twisted like a dreadlock
but still spread wisdom like a tedtalk, make the bedrock crack
when i go from kissing to making the bed rock
with your girl, sorry, i had to, i’m just so ample
every line is like a sample of columbia’s finest
watch it come for your sinus like [sniff]
when i violate with true sk!ll, it’s dilated pupils
but dire straits is too real, it’s time to bury some
the current state is worrisome, a lot of y’all are no way
but you know me, i’m a good guy, i’m part of it, why would i
putt down the new wave, the kinda cr-p like writing trap off
as a whole, when slump god make the trunk knock
and ‘dre was talking ’bout that trap ‘fore he turned three stacks
and needed knee pads, so how can we be mad?
oh, them hi-hats had you trembling?
now rap’s in its nu-metal phase, weirdos -ssembling
on soundcloud, reading high-school diaries out loud
sobbing faker than the priory of sion
crocodile tears, rock-a-bye baby rhyming
you bet’ not, open your mouth again, cause i’ll be
scoping you out, leaving you blood staind, a slipknot
tie one up, korny mothaf-ckas, do yourself a favor
you can’t keep up, my stealh is major, single-handedly
a new era launched, return of the pharoahe monch flow
from po to prince i go, the head hancho
i’mma tear ’til my tortilla get nacho
move piano keys ’til b-tches aksin’
to suck like keanu reeves’ british accent
you’re bud light, we’re the bottle of ballantine’s cooking up
in the backseat of palcic’s ford focus
the poor locust cursed with having to plague you, i beg you
have mercy on ’em, huh, funny how i, a gr-sshopper
am p-ssing down knowledge, i told y’all the game’s f-cked
i blow into the cartridge when i blast choppers
you lame ducks get the quack, that’s big shaq
beat nasty like ya lip-lock with a sick thot
and not sick like hot, but diseased
and not thot like a chick, but a sleaze, brother please
on this beat i burn, like a young prodigy
r.i.p., every time it’s my turn, i reek havoc
while you got a weak habit, you always half–ss it
i’m charcoal to the soul of a half-stepper
the beatles to a def leppard, beat up a daft rapper
pour some sugar on you to get the pigs off the scent
and prigs often vent on the net, i afk ’em
lay ’em down, no topless whip, jfk ’em
they always catch feelings, thinking they all that
while i’m a madvillain, make it rain all caps
yeah, i grew up a keyboard warrior too, i’m racist
pc master race, f-ck a playstation
i walk it like i talk it, the nearest i’ve been to the street is
san andreas, ban the players talking bs
you ain’t seen a high speed chase outside of hot pursuit
and there’s no happy ending for you here, no hot m-sseuse
around, just me winning, regardless of my come up
the fruits of my labour, i’m harvesting a ton of
sooner or later, but i’m betting on the former
’cause i know i’m jetting to the top soon, in this corner
the prophesied champ, proper-sized amps
and speakers are required when you’re pumping my jams
heatseekers to your eardrums, ’til you can’t hear nothin’
you sneakers on fire from the jumping, god d-mn!
i am the air in your lungs, more than the greatest
some say it’s a crutch that i rap in “ænglish”
i could whip any tongue, foreign or native
try out a little dutch and still you couldn’t hang, b-tch
so don’t test my slovenski, ‘fore i hit you like a
two-seater ten-speed or aretha’s sonics
got franklins in the pipeline, make you see the frenzy
of a lifetime when i send a wreath of sonnets
to your mom’s duke from my bazooka
that’s my literary canon, “what you on about, you on the hookah?”
nah, i’m just off my rocker, and ’til i’m fit to marry janet
jackson, i’mma stay such, i need my bae’s touch
forget getting lucky like poetic justice
i’m crazier than bishop in juice, i wanna be your husband
though i ain’t fishin’ for clues, i might come off as a d-ck
but baby, beneath all of this… agh, who am i kidding
i’m a man snake, ain’t worthy of a handshake
i’m insane, man, that same hand gonn stab you in the back
and not with a nice blade, no, a shank or somethin’
that doesn’t alter my grades though, my rank is stunnin’
but dumb doubters downplay the dopeness
“you say you’re so sick, oh, but are you really?”
like ruff ryders, gon’ stick your whole clique
my namesake in ’06, better guard your belly
and curb your lips, for your name’s sake, learn to diss
‘fore you come at a pro, it’s gon’ hurt to p-ss
once you get burnt like a hoe, catch an stde
dot mp3 from the top dawg
number one canine with no k or nine
ain’t hood enough, ok or fine ain’t good enough
breathtakin’ is the bear minimum, without breakin’
a sweat, we’re winnin’ ’em, don’t be mistaken, a threat
i’m not unless you’re poking sticks and provoking sh-t
the caller of the shriek bled a creek, ooh
yeah, i got your special somebody soaking wet
but what’s the color of the leak, red or see-through?
you can prolly guess, it’s quite obvious, ain’t it
no raven to her window, just turning her box
to a canary, while she’s earning her spot in my harem
are you catching my lingo or has it gotten too jarrin’?
i make her sing yo, set off a set of pipes
by laying some pipe, when i let off, you better wipe
it off her face, it’s a heavy case of nut
i’m chevy chase, a nut, from national lampoon
ain’t gonna lamp soon, in a cold fashion or any other
maybe i’m old-fashioned, but semi-lover is all i can be
confirm the o-face, no mythbusters needed
bust and leave it, believe you don’t wanna get caught up with me
i gave you the time to shine, now it’s my time to rhyme
left y’all on a rhyme ramadan
it’s been a slow start, now my season’s really here
i’m ’bout to bogart the mic and go so hard
welcome to the kacy tape, a new chapter
providing everything you after, for my day ones
finally got the oldies on wax, plus some fresh new tracks
for the ladies in the back, get out the way, son
no mason, the eye of the watcher is the blarin’ noise in
the valley, the serum to the air that’s poisoned
turn it up a notch, you gotta hear ’em, who?
z.o. and dvided, we ridin’
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