Lyrics to 666 (Three Six Word Stories)
Eureka! Franklin, D, Roosevelt, Frank, Lynn, Collins, Ferguson, Rick, James, Brown, Ferguson, son?
Come on son, 13, I'm on one, 2, 3, 4, 5 Jacksons in action
My eyes are stained glass look thru
You'll see my labor pains, when my brain goes into contractions
Crack pipes, Wesley Snipes all over the city
Like stop signs, fall back pull out the act right
While they cat fight I rap like parking parallel with 18 wheels in snow storm, jack knife
Too black, too strong, exactly! That type
Could somebody please tell Father Time to kiss my ass, (pause) get it?
Then add that loss to his resume because he is no longer undefeated
13 I am the best that ever did it
When you travel back thru time you'll lose 24 hours for every hour you remain in the past committed
I will complete a perfect final four bracket
Water the roses on your grave and then criticize that weak shit you are about to say before you fix your mouth to spit it
I bet you I am the one like Mookie! But not Mookie Betts or Spike Lee in the movies
I move the crowd like I have Tourette's in the movies
I hate the old people!
Slut, whore, fuck it, I voted for Trump
Pump shotgun, bomb, fire! Everybody run
DMC, Houdini with the treacherous three stripe Adidas fat gold chain necklace
Master of the guillotine, put their heads on a chopping block
Lucifer killing machine executioner
Get 'em and then I'ma put 'em in the middle of a firing squad load'n lock pop, pop, pop
Watch me water board 'em, peel their nails back torture them
Cigarettes on the eyelids scorching them to the pupil to iris to the retina
Viruses silencing them like they're silence us except I'm more violent
Fuck 'em, I mute their music when they're unplugged
Throwing up middle finger to the future of these young thugs
The game of thrones going back to hell again
Cracked skeleton bones, spawn black melanin
My attitude free radical
Islam wrap cellophane around the mouths of these fuckboys I keep telling 'em
But they ain't trying to hear me though
But the word get around in the hood like venereal
Merry go's aerial views drug dealer burials crack head flat screen tv's and cheap stereos
Swing, go ahead take a swing
You a thug you act like you wanna swing on me
But hesitant cause you don't know if got the thing on me
And by thing I mean 29 books of rhymes
Words are the bullets
Pages are the clips that hold unlimited ammunition
And I just committed the crime
The scene is not fictitious clips
Or quick depictions of cops taking pics of ice picks sticking out of the victims
But a detective taking notes on a deceased Kellogg's, General Mills, Quaker Oats
And in the bathroom scripted with love as he got nearer
Three six word stories written with blood on the mirror:
I breathe like oxygen is expensive
Don't be offended I am defensive
I love you take care, intensive
I love you take care, intensive
Come on son, 13, I'm on one, 2, 3, 4, 5 Jacksons in action
My eyes are stained glass look thru
You'll see my labor pains, when my brain goes into contractions
Crack pipes, Wesley Snipes all over the city
Like stop signs, fall back pull out the act right
While they cat fight I rap like parking parallel with 18 wheels in snow storm, jack knife
Too black, too strong, exactly! That type
Could somebody please tell Father Time to kiss my ass, (pause) get it?
Then add that loss to his resume because he is no longer undefeated
13 I am the best that ever did it
When you travel back thru time you'll lose 24 hours for every hour you remain in the past committed
I will complete a perfect final four bracket
Water the roses on your grave and then criticize that weak shit you are about to say before you fix your mouth to spit it
I bet you I am the one like Mookie! But not Mookie Betts or Spike Lee in the movies
I move the crowd like I have Tourette's in the movies
I hate the old people!
Slut, whore, fuck it, I voted for Trump
Pump shotgun, bomb, fire! Everybody run
DMC, Houdini with the treacherous three stripe Adidas fat gold chain necklace
Master of the guillotine, put their heads on a chopping block
Lucifer killing machine executioner
Get 'em and then I'ma put 'em in the middle of a firing squad load'n lock pop, pop, pop
Watch me water board 'em, peel their nails back torture them
Cigarettes on the eyelids scorching them to the pupil to iris to the retina
Viruses silencing them like they're silence us except I'm more violent
Fuck 'em, I mute their music when they're unplugged
Throwing up middle finger to the future of these young thugs
The game of thrones going back to hell again
Cracked skeleton bones, spawn black melanin
My attitude free radical
Islam wrap cellophane around the mouths of these fuckboys I keep telling 'em
But they ain't trying to hear me though
But the word get around in the hood like venereal
Merry go's aerial views drug dealer burials crack head flat screen tv's and cheap stereos
Swing, go ahead take a swing
You a thug you act like you wanna swing on me
But hesitant cause you don't know if got the thing on me
And by thing I mean 29 books of rhymes
Words are the bullets
Pages are the clips that hold unlimited ammunition
And I just committed the crime
The scene is not fictitious clips
Or quick depictions of cops taking pics of ice picks sticking out of the victims
But a detective taking notes on a deceased Kellogg's, General Mills, Quaker Oats
And in the bathroom scripted with love as he got nearer
Three six word stories written with blood on the mirror:
I breathe like oxygen is expensive
Don't be offended I am defensive
I love you take care, intensive
I love you take care, intensive
