Текст песни Paper Maché

[Rahsheed/Maylay Sparks] Yeah, everybody get up, like I said, Rick Smooth [Everybody on the floor get up] whatup, (Tah Shamel?) Yo, It's Maylay Sparks two-thousand and one In the silhouette, standing erect Tower projects, insects cling to the steps Oral sex, my head blessed Backwards (steamed in conquest?) The cello rest against my chest Stroking a (sorceress in unison?) (Yeah, it's our heart?) (Throwing support on my dolos?) (v cut the bottle?) (???my journal???) Red and (spoken/smoking?) external Through mass verbal my herbal habit Magic puff dragon and purple, my inner circle Violated suckers annihilated Shroom playing MF Doom Plum skins, I'ma fondle 'em Ten more stamps, there ain't no problem Laser light, (power?) sublime Sound leaking through the Terrordome [Big gold chains and herringbones] Big gold chains and herringbones from Yellowstone Parties on the rocks in Arizona to Stonehenge [Rocked ill fests from London to Sweden] And London's fans they exed out Long binge, pour me the next stout Bounced all the wack emcees out, they can't win [What you say to me is just paper thin] Niggas soft, can't come off, it's embarrassing [What you say to me is just paper thin] I said mash out smash mouth go in they glass chins [What you say to me is just paper thin] I do this often, Philly to Boston, Rah' blends In full effect, records get wrecked Percocet, Hennessey fifth, chase it with Becks Fleeing suspect: Maylay, controver-sey The Bill of Rights entice the most forbidden of privileges Rollin dice, I melt ice, draw/jaw of?? the stars Rinse the earth of negativity, blew out the torch on lady liberty Quill pens, ink dispense, confederated to true heads Asian and the African kids, whites with dreads And fluent/fluid Orientals love instrumentals and label-lake? slip in a bis, slip in a dis [Louis Logic] Slip 'em a hit of this strychnine-laced up ridiculousness And watch em trip liked they slipped on a slick patch of oil And dispatched the royal blue boys to chase Cause when the poison takes effect they'll destroy this place Enjoy the taste of avoiding space and time with your tongue depressed Flat on the white acid tab like Hunter S. Then become depressed cause you wish you're the guy that's rhyming Nonetheless, it's Louis in the sky with diamonds [Louis in the sky with diamonds] Going "Bling Bling," cause if the cops had an inkling Of the Mickeys I slipped kids I'd be thrown in Sing Sing I'm talking more Mickeys than a whore's hickeys Or even worse I've served more Mickeys than Walt Disney [Say what?] You didn't hear me, my verse is Mickey vertebrae Curve away from trips like I'm the new Tim Leary And bounced all the wack emcees out, they can't win [What you say to me is just paper thin] Niggas soft, can't come off, it's embarrassing [What you say to me is just paper thin] I said mash out smash mouth go in they glass chins [What you say to me is just paper thin] I do this often, Philly to Boston, Rah' blends [Celph Titled] I'm envisioned as a microphone Samaritan Cause niggas say I rhyme nice Challenge you to battle and take you out like pork fried rice Motherfuckers ain't ready for the Celph-Titled onslaught Try to embrace the flow and then (hack, they'll?) rip your arms off My beats are classic like novels by Charles Dickens Bury your body in cement blocks and watch the plot thicken My frame of mind is on exhibit at museums And my show is in the Guinness book for filling up Coliseums I play bitches like radio stations and straight eff 'em A Super Mario nigga that lay pipe without discretion I'm ill, (all but?) threw your ice up on the grill Make you relocate to farmlands with cows and windmills [Louis Logic: Hey yo, Celph, this ain't a battle, I think you're hallucinating] I see no evil, inflict blindness in the eyes of Satan Blurry vision but still a marksman who straight (spray-dars/darts?) The emcee on stage seen in the eyes of Maylay Sparks [Apathy] (?) breather, rip open your chest, take a breath Fill the lungs with red sense', when I get high I smoke death And meet the grim reaper for reefer, nickel bag full of souls Secrete a poison toxic chronic, put the beast in a sleeper hold My hellfire is cold, I be bold, written in my soul I never sold, I broke the mold like Christ's bread was old Behold, my coming's foretold, take off your mind blindfold Cause I'm so fly the fifty-first area stole my steelo I be low, like Satan's basement Behold the pale horse, I snuffed the grim reaper So guess who's the replacement I wait till dark, stalk while you walk through parks Until the Son of Sam's dog barks at Maylay SparksLouis Logic f/ Apathy, Celph Titled, Maylay Sparks - Paper Maché - http://ru.motolyrics.com/louis-logic-f-apathy-celph-titled-maylay-sparks/paper-mache-lyrics.html