[Verse 1: Erick the Architect]
The rhyme is so raw, most these rappers need a seminar
You copy the same schematics, you makin' 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 givin' me calluses
Even if it's assumed, provin' it all again
Sellin' out all the shows, never sellin' 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 enticin' him
Limbs relaxed, but your music pop like a Vicodin
[Chorus: Erick the Architect]
RIP 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 feelin' like we're nothin' like we used to be
RIP, 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 feelin' like we're nothin' like we used to be
[Verse 2: Zombie Juice]
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 startin' to think that
This world is lost like a sea ship
Walkin' to Hell with the demons
How can the heavens defeat them?
Sometimes I just wanna leave 'em
This feeling is somethin', 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 warnin', Flatbush swarmin', Nike shoes on
Prove them critics wrong, gettin' cream, bitch, I love it
And the fans hold us down, put nothin' above it
[Chorus: Erick the Architect]
RIP 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 feelin' like we're nothin' like we used to be
RIP, 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 feelin' like we're nothin' like we used to be
[Verse 3: Meechy Darko]
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 gushin' like a geyser
I'm Michael Myers with these grip pliers, take 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 evenin' to refrain from the violence
Young and wildin', 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 '90s
Click-boom, your head blew like you play for the Giants
Lyrical tyrant the way I be rhymin'
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 dosage that Dr. Meechy Dark prescribed ya
I slide inside her, I love her tight vagina, no E-Z Widers
Back to the cypher, I got chronic to light up, pass me the lighter
[Chorus: Erick the Architect]
RIP 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 feelin' like we're nothin' like we used to be
RIP, 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 feelin' like we're nothin' like we used to be
