R.I.P.C.D.

The rhyme is so raw, most these rappers need a seminar
 You copy the same schematics, you making the same songs
 You thought that you were the only, but understand it's the physical
 Artistry manifest, but no ideas original
 Our sickest creation, no need for further analysis
 Plus the beats bang prestige giving me calluses
 Even if it's assumed, proving it all again
 Selling out all the shows never selling out who I am
 Mild temper venter, chronic keep me casual
 Formally introduced to a journey into the natural
 The three, two zeros then proceeded by one
 Laced like your woven tennis shoes before you go run
 Danger danger, Will Robinson
 There's a crisis here, nappy ain't dirty
 Racist man, it's just a type of hair
 Nightmares have just begun, there's no enticing him
 Limbs relaxed, but your music pop like a Vicodin
 R.I.P. to the CD, can't even play my hits
 'Cause new computers ship without the means to play the shit
 We love the boosted speed
 We love the memory
 It got me feeling like we're nothing like we used to be
 R.I.P. to the CD, can't even play my hits
 'Cause new computers ship without the means to play the shit
 We love the boosted speed
 We love the memory
 It got me feeling like we're nothing like we used to be (buh-buh-buh, buh-buh-buh)
 Smoke smoke drip, sip-sip-sip
 Eyes closed like I missed this
 No forgiveness, just a sick bitch
 'Cause I'm under destruction what is this?
 Just a young nigga ready to get this
 If I fall on my face, you're my witness
 Feast on my blood when I leave this
 Dimension I'm starting to think that
 This world is lost like a sea ship
 Walking to hell with the demons
 How can the heavens defeat them?
 Sometimes I just wanna, leave 'em
 This feeling is something, I can't run
 I just wanna be where I came from
 I'm never gon' see where I came from
 Rest in peace to the game son
 Brooklyn baby reborn
 Trippin' up, you lukewarm
 This is like a warning, Flatbush swarming, Nike shoes on
 Prove them critics wrong, gettin' C.R.E.A.M, bitch I love it
 And the fans hold us down, put nothing above it
 R.I.P. to the CD, can't even play my hits
 'Cause new computers ship without the means to play the shit
 We love the boosted speed
 We love the memory
 It got me feeling like we're nothing like we used to be (buh-buh-buh, buh-buh-buh)
 The wickedest, man on fire the new Richard Pryor
 The wicked lit, rubber on my dick
 'Cause I don't want that Charlie Sheen shit
 Please don't say you're the highest until you met your highness
 I just, want the head like ISIS
 Fuck her so precise her pussy gushing like a geyser
 I'm Michael Myers with these grip pliers took off your eyelids
 I sit in silence, speak in tongues and burn Bibles
 So open letter to all of my rivals: You will not vanquish my titles
 My semi-automatic, will splatter a nigga like Jackson Pollock
 Deranged since birth I was conceived in an insane asylum
 I solemnly swear this evening to refrain from the violence
 Young and wilding, psilocybin still my stylist
 LSD drops in my iris, tire mark, police sirens
 No guidance, the belly of the beast is where I reside in
 Grimy and vibrant like Busta Rhymes, in the early 90's
 Click boom, your head blew like you play for the Giants
 Lyrical tyrant the way I be rhyming
 I deserve all of the Pulitzer prizes
 My pistol be hiding, I pull it, surprise 'em
 My voice can be hypnotizing every verse I deliver be vivid and visually striking
 Been the highest since I arrived and the climate is rising
 It's 'bout to get violent cover your eyes
 And take this lyrical dose that the Doctor Meechy Dark prescribed ya
 I slide inside her I love her tight vagina no E-Z Wider
 Back to the cypher, I got chronic to light up pass me the lighter
 R.I.P. to the CD, can't even play my hits
 'Cause new computers ship without the means to play the shit
 We love the boosted speed
 We love the memory
 It got me feeling like we're nothing like we used to be
 (Used to be, used to be, used to be, used to be, used to be)
 
 The rhyme is so raw, most these rappers need a seminar
 You copy the same schematics, you making the same songs
 You thought that you were the only, but understand it's the physical
 Artistry manifest, but no ideas original
 Our sickest creation, no need for further analysis
 Plus the beats bang prestige giving me calluses
 Even if it's assumed, proving it all again
 Selling out all the shows never selling out who I am
 Mild temper venter, chronic keep me casual
 Formally introduced to a journey into the natural
 The three, two zeros then proceeded by one
 Laced like your woven tennis shoes before you go run
 Danger danger, Will Robinson
 There's a crisis here, nappy ain't dirty
 Racist man, it's just a type of hair
 Nightmares have just begun, there's no enticing him
 Limbs relaxed, but your music pop like a Vicodin
 R.I.P. to the CD, can't even play my hits
 'Cause new computers ship without the means to play the shit
 We love the boosted speed
 We love the memory
 It got me feeling like we're nothing like we used to be
 R.I.P. to the CD, can't even play my hits
 'Cause new computers ship without the means to play the shit
 We love the boosted speed
 We love the memory
 It got me feeling like we're nothing like we used to be (buh-buh-buh, buh-buh-buh)
 Smoke smoke drip, sip-sip-sip
 Eyes closed like I missed this
 No forgiveness, just a sick bitch
 'Cause I'm under destruction what is this?
 Just a young nigga ready to get this
 If I fall on my face, you're my witness
 Feast on my blood when I leave this
 Dimension I'm starting to think that
 This world is lost like a sea ship
 Walking to hell with the demons
 How can the heavens defeat them?
 Sometimes I just wanna, leave 'em
 This feeling is something, I can't run
 I just wanna be where I came from
 I'm never gon' see where I came from
 Rest in peace to the game son
 Brooklyn baby reborn
 Trippin' up, you lukewarm
 This is like a warning, Flatbush swarming, Nike shoes on
 Prove them critics wrong, gettin' C.R.E.A.M, bitch I love it
 And the fans hold us down, put nothing above it
 R.I.P. to the CD, can't even play my hits
 'Cause new computers ship without the means to play the shit
 We love the boosted speed
 We love the memory
 It got me feeling like we're nothing like we used to be (buh-buh-buh, buh-buh-buh)
 The wickedest, man on fire the new Richard Pryor
 The wicked lit, rubber on my dick
 'Cause I don't want that Charlie Sheen shit
 Please don't say you're the highest until you met your highness
 I just, want the head like ISIS
 Fuck her so precise her pussy gushing like a geyser
 I'm Michael Myers with these grip pliers took off your eyelids
 I sit in silence, speak in tongues and burn Bibles
 So open letter to all of my rivals: You will not vanquish my titles
 My semi-automatic, will splatter a nigga like Jackson Pollock
 Deranged since birth I was conceived in an insane asylum
 I solemnly swear this evening to refrain from the violence
 Young and wilding, psilocybin still my stylist
 LSD drops in my iris, tire mark, police sirens
 No guidance, the belly of the beast is where I reside in
 Grimy and vibrant like Busta Rhymes, in the early 90's
 Click boom, your head blew like you play for the Giants
 Lyrical tyrant the way I be rhyming
 I deserve all of the Pulitzer prizes
 My pistol be hiding, I pull it, surprise 'em
 My voice can be hypnotizing every verse I deliver be vivid and visually striking
 Been the highest since I arrived and the climate is rising
 It's 'bout to get violent cover your eyes
 And take this lyrical dose that the Doctor Meechy Dark prescribed ya
 I slide inside her I love her tight vagina no E-Z Wider
 Back to the cypher, I got chronic to light up pass me the lighter
 R.I.P. to the CD, can't even play my hits
 'Cause new computers ship without the means to play the shit
 We love the boosted speed
 We love the memory
 It got me feeling like we're nothing like we used to be
 (Used to be, used to be, used to be, used to be, used to be)