spex - drunken diary

spex - drunken diary

I ain’t that type who throws dice for respect (NO!)
I be that samurai who slings a cheap shot and slice your necks
Ain’t that little rap kid spittin' wack shit for respect (NO!)
I'm that the murderer, giving uppercuts, so come collect

Lucifer came too close, infested me with anthrax and battle mantra
Making rappers fill their Pampers and pull their pants up
And God left me the possibility to write my name in heaven
But with a psychology that only allows me to be in hell with Satan
So I dwell in sandals like Jesus, paint the canvas in contrasts
Depicting the signs in Hebrew and record the wind within my compass
Filling me out with an attitude like: Fuck that! And cock back
on cock acts who rocks more money and cash than the Willy Wonkas
Developed I conquer on, enhanced by the metal threads in my neck
The electronics in my chest and the soldering in my crest
Behind my eyelids my circuit boards are glowing in confinement
Collecting more information than Echelon and Pentagon's combining
That's my abilities, more agility than Superman flexing facilities
'Cause I'll flex my artillery in your face and spex your stability
I'll break the tranquillity, hand me my bokuto, I'll commit seppuko
On the shores of anxiety where the grim water meets the sulphur moon
The bushies will look on me before the second bloom of my sakura
Before they lay hands on my body and re-open the box of Pandora
But what do I know? I'm only reppin' myself and the Syndrome
Fuck playing smart, we'll snap your balls and play pinball
So fuck that, I'm so hard that I'm crunching ivory
And if you don't like this shit:
Close your eyes the next time it's time for a drunken diary