(Part 1: Tyranus) Papas hot as stove cheese is nachos I need a lot of dough All is possible with profit margins keep it logical Feed the greedy goblin feasting often’s how I got it oh and We can see the talk is cheap it’s charming leave deposits though You thought it’s optional? I copy pasta with the cross promote Start or stop the show with every bar I wrote phenomenal Got the art to post the beat the drop you know will rock the boat I’m from the town where frowns will get your toddler thrown It’s not a joke I got a pot of gold it’s all on lock I rock Guantanamo Invest in stock and homes don’t got a job I’m clocking dollars though I’m awesome bro I hit the lotto drove and flown across the globe I’m hard to scope an optical illusion musics hostile host I bought a chain that sparkles cars and plates I’m balling look at me I’m cooking hooks crookedly writing dining on Wookiee meat What is life? Is it good to me? Money and prices luring me desires of living life wherein I have no insecurities I need a rocket for people plotting to stop the show The cheese I got it like pizza pockets I’m hot to go Stack your sauce up you get panned I’m panna cotta Who the man, Tyranus author, map his mark attack and conquer Loser cats can challenge, off em. Shooting banter rather often Soon to have a snack I gotta Chew on rats like anacondas Human cannonball a damage dodger had to smash your wall up Blackest mamba had to harm em keep the cheese I’m master mozza Who is Realer? None. I got em bitter huh? I guess they went and bit enough I’m hidden cuz the kids militia got the filth guerrilla cuts So give it up cause when the pen erupts you’re friggn finished son Send em in dismemberment with ginger when is dinner done? Forget your luck it’s spent you suck so deep that all your swimmers sunk Forget the script and lyrics if the benjamins don’t get to ya I need a rocket for people plotting to stop the show The cheese I got it like pizza pockets I’m hot to go I need a rocket for people plotting to stop the show The cheese I got it like pizza pockets I’m hot to go Wait till the green rise and he tries retirement They need rhymes from The three eyed Levi leviathan All the rest are knee high Weak whine and cry and wish That they could hope to beat my Neat lines they try and quit Tiny violins will be required I’ll provide the script Bombastic magnum opus crashing shows Don’t know I’m flying in Sky dive mic is live and spit the nicest bright and crisp Stick the landing after giving fans a night they’ll likely miss Like what’s the price of this?? Dammit why’d he quit?? (Part 2: Abu Kong) (They’ll never see it coming) I peep your spot, I creep up on it Me who used to seek the prophets See the rocket meet your socket Speak discreet and reach you wallet Chicken nugget, frikkin puppets Licking nuts and getting fucked And sickly touched and fifty blushes Just to get a cut above us I see you see me, me and EB simply be in BG Speaking freely so they really feel the heebie jeebies You freaks are fraggle rock Idris a freaking phantom ahk I’m packing a javelin on the back of a jabberwock Half of an African on the path that a panther walk Rap with the acumen and the talent that Malcolm taught Laughing in traffic I’m passing pigs on the chatter box The bastards are callous attackers turning their cameras off Well we’re coming. We’re spear chucking fear nothing Deer youngin clear cutting out from mere fussing The moment is ours your culture is coward It’s over this hour the vultures devoured now toast to my power! Either Tyson, or Idris, or call me Abu Kong Being nice or being evil dropping atom bombs Sacrificial sheep, leave em at the creatures feet Breathing deep I even sink my teeth in demon meat The pro de facto. You better hope they hold me back yo Or those opposables will grope your broken adam’s apple Stack your cadaver and master your massa’s grammar From knowing the propaganda to grabbing and throwing cameras Motion detecting You open deception I’m over your heaven And pose of redemption I’m post Armageddon Opposing your section I broke your protection and Rose to perfection With focused erection The chosen ghost of a legend More gorilla than Attila, stomp a hollow on your plateau Tyranus goes Bananas and his status, that is smash bros You assholes. I’m the monster under your bed I’ve got a son with the dreads who sees his hunger is fed The statue is given from Abu to Ibn I’m passing the wisdom, of practical living The champion vision, the fact and the fiction Unmasking the villains, the path to perdition The man on a mission to slap the shit out the rhythm I’m pennywise, a pound of flesh, you punks are pizza pockets Scores are coming hoards are running boy you need to stop it I call an audible and watch em fall like dominoes I toss a Molotov and holler off Geronimo!!
Read the complete lyrics to "Pizza Pockets" by Tyranus Kong from the album "Wherever Bananas May Grow" in 2018. On Lyrks you can follow along with the full text, explore the artist's discography, and discover related songs. The track is often categorized under Rap.
"Pizza Pockets" is performed by Tyranus Kong. from the album "Wherever Bananas May Grow" in 2018 This page provides the full lyric text for fans who want to sing along, study the songwriting, or compare versions across releases. Lyrks organizes lyrics by artist and song slug so you can bookmark and share a stable URL.
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"Pizza Pockets" is credited to Tyranus Kong. Songwriting credits may include additional writers listed on the release; check the credits section on this page for linked collaborators.
"Pizza Pockets" appears on "Wherever Bananas May Grow" in 2018.
Visit the Tyranus Kong artist page at /artist/tyranus-kong for biography, popular tracks, and links to more lyric pages.
