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Their Song (Prod. by Louis Rich)

by CornBread

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1.

about

Whenever I'm writing I see my daughter's eyes
Or my grand babies after my son has fathered mine
Then I'm thinking of metal melting to solder rhymes
To end wit u taken my fam, and then I slaughter guys
To be tha one energy in tha universe
To spit life, but no sperm up in a human purse
Tha flow may be a little off with tha truant words
But thats because I'm off medical or congruent herbs
Mine come divine, who influenced yers
Converted atheists coming out a jewish church
Fathom eargasms, I'll show you who can squirt
Then u capture Plattered Puss (Platypus) like Duffenshmirtz
I see you niggaz, not rocking shoes and shirts
Still play regardless of if they lose they perks
I understand girls wit dudes and they choose to flirt
Getting all they signals mix at best, confused at worse
While I'm pondering getting this slut
And take me a hit of tha blunt

Signs of senility sittin next to me
Talkin himself thru his sickness while he's in special need
So I'm hearing his song especially
Since he talkin of teachings just like professors be
Be kind to others, that is tha lesson we
Overlook in tha kill wit kindness recipe
Instead disgust and mistrust is tha weaponry
Now if that were spot on, you'd be pretty leopardy
If we don't answer these questions just like its jeopardy
If you not first, then secondly, just let her Be (Letter B)
Or just go and strip chickens just like some checkers meat
And put tha pedal to floor and watch tha zephyr screech
From burning rubber and peeling tires inhaling fire
Hash bowls from tha grass grown wit thee papaya
If you dealin wit narcoleptics don't even try it
These pungent aromas go in nostrils and relieve tha sinus
As i roll mo dro to get baked
And put some cheese eggs over my steak..

credits

released April 9, 2015

A. Middleton, A. Joyce

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all rights reserved

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CornBread Los Angeles, California

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