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Machin Shin

The Who

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In the hands is a light saber that'll rip faster than an attack by Darth Vader with a tray.

 

Do these lyrics contain truth? You gotta find the right mix with the spectral bells and phat bass mix.

 

Start lyrics

 

Tonight we got the mic on cruise

With more luck than horseshoes

While we fuse together like ??

'Cause we move with ten ton thrusters

The cosmopolitan cosmonaut up in your knot again like aneurysms

Expand with wisdom

Musical mannerisms are parallel to cannibalism

And animal instinct that's in sync

Distinct leavin' suckas extinct when we combine

The gravity hella fine, physics of mind

Inebriating, leave you gaping open

Nothing's safe in Oakland

It's potent and murder is the slogan but

We showin' you the erosion of the stereotypical

Itchin' to pull the trigger on niggas

This is all original

And brand new, fidgetin' with tracks that are rigid and

Pigeonholin rappers while collectin' dividends at the door

Ya' know [ECHOES]

And that's how it goes

 

CHORUS

 

Who? Who? Who? Who?

Who the entertainers stompin' through like cross-trainers?

Can't be no plainer

YOU!

The remainders couldn't never be that one

Pack em in by millions attendance is platinum

 

Who? Who? Who? Who?

Who the entertainers who stimulate like vibrators?

With rhymes so major

YOU!

Ya' need us to rock a show, hit the pager

Niggas catch vapors when our lyrics hit the paper

 

Verse 2

 

Once again in your dimension, tension personified

Del and Hieroglyphics pollenize

We don't apolgize for gettin' places packed back-to-back

Our rank cranks just about any function

While your memory file is blank

No hankey-pankey jankey stuff goin'

Down over here no forms of raps are wroten

My styles fluctuate like the Dow Jones average

While they stay savage

My cassette change shape and transform like ravage or rumble

 

 

Make the earth crumble and seperate

Fallin' to the underground

Get into your head like a metal plate

While you sit and wait for these niggas on TV, they hella fake

Hieroglyphics, they can never escape us

The eagle eye, Mach 1, three mics

They say "D"

Intuition is the tool in which I use

When enrichin' you with original stylistics

And the Hieroglyphic ritual is too habitually blowin up

With ballistic attacks

Let me just deal with the facts

Niggas keep it real in they raps which are not realistic

Perfection and our poetical competitive edge

Is just a reflection of how we feel shit

This history's impressionist microphone specialist

Catchin' bids for puttin' MCs parts in my fridge

But granted quiz it to exquisite to the highest EO

My prodigal product a diabolical melodics

Aquatic is nautical

Motion, Hiero, kenetic flotation so fuck ya phony radio rotation

My colossal might on the mic is optimum

Hip-hop from the Sequoia Heights populous

Gamma rays like Bruce Banner

Phase your scanner

With mind over matter I slap the curls out you girl scouts....ya know

 

CHORUS

 

Who? Who? Who? Who?

Are these originators rippin' cuts like sabres

In the hands of Darth Vader

YOU!

The remainders couldn't never be that one

Pack em in by millions attendance is platinum

Who? Who? Who? Who? Who?

Who the entertainers who stimulate like vibrators

With rhymes so major

YOU!

Ya' need us to rock a show, hit the pager

Niggas catch vapors when our lyrics hit the paper

 

Yeah, Ahh

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Del the funky Homosapien is an old soul in a young body he mastered a Ma'at technique. And Pep love is love that is peppy.

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