Escape To 88

Welcome to a piece of brain tissue, my brain's lungs
 Filled with octane like liquid it came from
 Some silly, said her tits sellin illy
 Really? By the jar? Pump the car full of grey jelly
 Called her Ronda, after I shit on the dash
 Cause I can't stand hooked up on dust
 The three manuveur so swiftly in and out of looters
 Through checkpoints with juice in stashed coolers
 2002, my album's played through
 ID on the window like it's fucking Beirut
 Too bad no planes flew into MTV
 I'll never get a platinum plaque for mp3
 Being blackballed by a white MC- Pause
 I guess that faggot found the right MD
 And I'm twisted but not like faggots that suck fame
 This clown is saying I'm sicker with metal than mudvayne
 I train my following like a bitch modelin'
 H is like a God and it won't stop hollerin'
 Fuck needing a TV to be a rockstar
 Punch a hole through Mark Wahlberg's chest and dent a copcar
 Put my brain in it, I wouldn't last a minute
 Scribble some shit in 30, I'm love like gimmicks
 Sluts, cynics, ducks with dipped spinnage
 Fuckin' you up in the front row's good for image
 I gotta walked on, half feet in Harlem for a gorilla
 That lost his family and want revenge on his killer
 Clapped the poacher, fled the stomach of rap through and ulcer
 Covered in blood, eating with vultures
 Off the chain and got a hook in his backskull to my feet
 Breastfeeding, mom was cooking up crack
 Drop me in a pot, cop in the spot, pistols gleaming in the sun
 Look son- I'm fistal fiendin'
 Nine to script with leading any malicious beatings
 Specially if feeled if the couples bitch is breedin'
 Six is reading, bitterly gritty
 Caught a GTA charge before Liberty City
 Too bad no brains blew out no heads plenty
 I'll prolly die after I Blow like Ted Demme
 There's no conspiracy, your bitch is a forced fit
 In the telly yelling "Behold the pale horse dick"
 Fuck the Taliban, I'm back to Ballys, and
 Keep your little faggot brother off her Sally, man
 I can explain this "do not cross this line" in my brain
 Feds in the crib, but they're not finding the cane
 Cause time in the game, New York is trife
 My boy T on the lamb like a fork and knife
 The corporate life, too fond of the blonde talker
 So I grew a beard and switched sides like John Walker