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2012-01-20 09:35

Diabolic

Dank in my system, creepin´on a late night-

drumtight, stalker, down wit´Johnny Walker-

mesmerize a victim with a blade from the pentry/

Ten keyz, and U wouldnt want the part as my enemy,

kush is my remedy, competition? Dont pretend to be,

i mold ya with a concrete serenade, step n get played,yo-

Wicked with tha meal-ticket, rob ya if i gotta gank ya/ thank ya/

hit that raggakey like shabba rank ya/ puff on tha dank ya-

More than you ever know, girlfriend, turn around let me spank ya/

Geed up, smoked out up in dis muthaphukka-

locced to the membrane, Ten Keyz be tha name-

Yeah, still a playah and i aintz 2 be turning round, backin´down,

fuck around you´ll hear that clappin´sound, if i juz´dial some digitz

i getz hooked up with a piece from my nigguz´

Gloc 19, slim- and aint no negociation- im

diabolic in thiz bitch, contrary to heavensent revelation,

obliged to my hiphopnation, you dont want no confrontation im

lacin´tha hot rhymestylez as a confirmation, on probation an´thatz real-

but if you aint committing no crime, your chances double-

im just a mothafucka that cant stay out of trouble...

Scandinavian damien, aint no erasin´these voices inside of my cranium,

and itz way more than a gimmick, its breaking my balls and i aint being cynik.

Im a rider on the storm, my format aint nevah being thorn,

sippin´Beefeater to get my insides warm, emcees get alarmed

and its ironic- I aint never asked for turning out to be this diabolic...