If you a man thats just demanding sense to cope in anyway
In Los Angeles it's cannibus we smoking everyday
As a host or just a panelist, you playing in tha game
From west of me to Chesapeake tha saying is tha same
Dont you hate tha player, hate on tha creator coming vain
Just to Vader and then later run wit Banes and thugs wit cane
Doing favors as you cater to tha ones that summon pain
Whether sabre or thru labor from tha Huns that running trains
When prostitutes is constituting status in tha street
As they're strictly gettin pimped, without Gladys and her peeps
Cuz tha coldest and Tha dopest even fall to incomplete
Kinda sources of enforcement that bring scorches wit tha heat
Tha purpose to transformance is that more than when it meets
Tha ojos of pro tho, it's a foreign thing we seek
And having you an attitude of radical debate
They stabbing dudes and smacking fools, til black and blue in face
Leaving you a ring around like Saturn do in space
And see I roll wit Jesus Christ tha latter coons a saint
And praises be, for saving me take that into tha bank
To cash it like a bastard on sabbatical, to thank
Tha powers for tha power, in this hour that is gold
Flowers to these cowards, never showered on tha soul
Wit definative and infinite, love, tha kind of eminent
Considerate, hugs that leave tha intimate imprinted
When in ya minds gettin it, then tha rhymes and penmenship
Is enterprising when it is Adventure Time like Finn and them
To go after that healing quartz, but not a lemon gem
Close arguements with sealing force, whenever conquerin tha men
Then I'm targeting their friend, putting marks on men
As tha marksmans spark'll send defendants hearts into dim abyss
Square as Tienamen's tenants, leaving for image
Of American dreams, seen independent, in tha luxury of a rented
Poor pals Pathfinder that they sleep in in Winter
And eat in for dinner, wit blankets over decreasing tha shiver
Then puff on a port
Just lyrical excersice or something of sort
Ain't nan new, so its nothing for Mork
To exchange flows for sex tho, because I love stuffing tha pork
Just a metaphor for saying I dig fucking for sure,
and eating pussy galore vagina muffins and more
Anything in between thighs is something explored
Unless STD's, then I'm punchin tha core
Of this lying chicks body, til she's hunched on tha floor
Throwing up whutever she had for lunch with her boy
Then kick tha cunt until clitoral reform,
I'm sayin that tha moral from Corn
Is that I reign dear and I orally storm,
To end beef as a Order at Norm's
Then take time to celebrate, we got a quarter 2 four
Whenever seeking to destroy every corner we on
Found as Blackie Chan cuz Corn'll be gone
Bringing mayhem to tha scene as I'm Dorner reborn