RIGHT ROUND, RIGHT ROUND! Head spinnin', lights out! Race Riots, Big Crowds! Tear gas put em down! Can't grasp just how these clowns can hold down, forts bigger than norse caravans, port the banner man! Then court the scammers with programmers, leave no damage with yo plans, then kill the camera man! No evidence left, no specimens kept, no president can hide his treachery, better than who? Orange dude! Loose screw through and through, bitch who is you? This trigger blew a fuse, i'm slicker than you, full of liquor, no booze! Need a few mixed with veteran scoops, lettermans infused with ketamine juice, best to motha' fuckin' let it loose! Why you playin' with the fire, you get burnt boi (Why you playin with the fire) (x2) You get burnt Play with fire, you gone get burnt! (x4) You get burnt! The current flows through my beat, no settlin, no saline, just straight morphine, morphing to the silent room. Hills adjourn at noon, eyelids glued shut, black bars covered photographs, closed caskets, no autographs, who saw him last? Caught the blast, know snitches get glassed, shattered, whiplashed, can't skip that this life been baffling, collapsing round the kid, staph infection lathered, mix with mass aggression, not to mention, must suspend belief, as a concession: Heres my confession, bitch i'm harder than thee! Spread like margarine, see? Past regressions must have redemption, cause of tension be the depression and medication festering through the game, with no contraception, no protection, heres the lesson: Bitch, i'm blessed with auditory perception, couple smiths plus wesson keep the quips, keep the clips loaded, immaculate conception, tragic misconception, if you think the boy be messin', who the fuck else I gotta best to prove that i'm blessed? Hear the album for smooth flows, best get some protex, these protests got the kids breakin they own necks, for peace in the projects. The most you doin' is to sit on the sidelines in silence and watch, shit stay quiet, you lost... Like Denzel said, stay on a diet then toss. Turn when i'm sleeping, the memories of those six feet homies on retreat, heavens be kind to me, when I die, see I was all I could be. A fucked up mess of a G. My whole life flash and flicker, simmer in the boiling pot kettle of settlement, the sentiment is ready when the kids home praying things work out, they never do, not to be cynical, motive was never clinical, clean cut, centuries past fore change last, pained past, stained glass windows paint the air with color and bane of civilization, when cavemen left the hovels and came in with sticks, walked on two legs, rocks hit the heads of prey out the food chain, fire-lit caverns in which we keep the race engaged, its a race of generations to see the way the tide waves, its a tidal wave the crowds conclave, sacraments invent, mankind travels in packs, builds upwards on the attack, at war with ourselves, from house of min to america, we live in constant perpetuation of denizen bred hatred, I cant take it...