Prince of Vengeance - C-Lance, WILDCARD, Celph Titled

Telekinetics ain’t strong enough to move me

Two tsunami’s couldn’t do me

Plus I’m prominently promising I’m ominous and moody

Like a comet when he’s shooting, bombing on the run and cruising

With some hydroponic chronic marijuana in his hoopty

An anomaly abusing a conglomerate of groupies

Like piranhas now you honor with klonopin and roofies

And I’ll dominate a booty like it’s Monica Bellucci’s

Make her pussy walls collapse, I’m Osama to the coochie

I’m Obama to this music, it’s too fucked to change now

Growing novocaine emotion flow and throwing flames out

Plus my voltage and velocity will blow your brains out

Just like Superman if he had came in Lois Lane’s mouth

No one colder came to go through pain and soak up game now

Known to blow your frame, you broke a tank and cobra came out

Hope this music shit finally pays off and I make checks

Or I’m stuck in drug stores buying shit to make meth

Motherfucker

Practitioners of Solomon’s magic are not Satanists who make pacts with the

Devil, they are spiritual explorers in the deep caverns of the mind

Mind torture, make a House of Pain out your brain

And when the scalpel shave it’s redder than a Falcon’s game

Douse out the flames with turpentine I work for mine

Why I need a biscuit?

This razor will murk you fine

Time to get nice, it feels right that I’m a boss

Autograph tracks with my signature flow (of course)

All I need is a 30-minute TV ad

Before and after pictures, naked bitches toking weed sacks

With the seat back (uh) in the Audi A8

My EPK is mean with PPK’s and Dead Presidents face paint

The feds knock pictures but they throw the book at me

So I’m Sasquatch, see me get a good look at me (that's him!)

Your Commodore-64 raps are under process

I’m the W.O.P.R.

mainframe from War Games here to play chess

Get gas, yeah the hunt is on

Twin shotty so don’t need to know which side the pump is on

These are the secrets of a lost art, by which Wizards and Warlocks of olden

times evoked Holy Angels and evil lesser spirits

Bipolar, cold and hot, cold as Minnesota twat

Colder than a kid who took the safety off a loaded Glock

Rode a lot, globe I trot

Thinking 'bout the shows I rocked

Strange bitches all in my bed like fucking Goldilocks

No one’s got shit on Dirty Version, I’m serious

I’m accustomed to custom and I say fuck just to hear the shit

And I’m crushing you fuckers and leave you stuck in delirium

Throw the towel in like we 'bout to fuck on her period

Oh!

What the fuck!

(I'm sorry!) that’s my mom’s favorite beach towel!

(I didn’t know) You gotta tell me when this shit is going on man it looks like

I smashed a Jelly Roll in my face!