Sicilian Spit
10-15-07, 02:56 AM
Internet makes me more of a writer, less of a lyricist
Biters wanna peer my sh*t but mics'll make their eardrum split
Spirits punch walls, stuck in purgatory
Between Inferno and Paradiso but I'm sure you heard the story
Like Fujimori, a stranger in my own land
Took years to understand the danger of my own hand
Arranger of my own plans, been goin against the grain
Showin out cuz a life without flowin is too plain
Growin new brain cells to add to my millions
But still goin dumb, back gettin tatted Sicilian
Don't get mad at the feelin, rhymes emphatic and thrillin
Sublime static is spillin, out the back of the buildin
That's me rehearsin, now gon and free the curtains
V is lurkin, heater's on, degree is certain
Spit about 500 Fahrenheit when I'm on stage
Sick wit a couple hundred parasites, my song's still sage
In pillow talk after a long night find out ya mom's age
Then get writin and recitin without a dot com page
Biters wanna peer my sh*t but mics'll make their eardrum split
Spirits punch walls, stuck in purgatory
Between Inferno and Paradiso but I'm sure you heard the story
Like Fujimori, a stranger in my own land
Took years to understand the danger of my own hand
Arranger of my own plans, been goin against the grain
Showin out cuz a life without flowin is too plain
Growin new brain cells to add to my millions
But still goin dumb, back gettin tatted Sicilian
Don't get mad at the feelin, rhymes emphatic and thrillin
Sublime static is spillin, out the back of the buildin
That's me rehearsin, now gon and free the curtains
V is lurkin, heater's on, degree is certain
Spit about 500 Fahrenheit when I'm on stage
Sick wit a couple hundred parasites, my song's still sage
In pillow talk after a long night find out ya mom's age
Then get writin and recitin without a dot com page