Dollar - Heiruspecs

Verse 1: Muad’Dib

10 minutes to 240, anything to fit the format

Blend chords, ripple effect to get the floor packed

Kick doors back and flip the doormat

Split your thorax, Mr. Living Rorschach

Done with dummy shit, you want a run at this, get it cracking

Saying your spray is staying tough acting like Tinactin

Venom leaks from the pen then I sink teeth into it

Thin fluid get the beat to seep in and bend to it

Peep the decent, no need to pretend

Stretch the wings wide, feel the G’s, man

The fall’s not fatal, the street at the end

That’s the bucket kicker, did your whiskers leave an imprint?

Life’s a gamble against a dealer that stacks the deck

Plus the man’s sleight of hand, maddeningly adept

Battling me except this hand is the best yet

So with that out the way, make your bet

Spool it out, loom duel of the mouth weaves tight things

Lines fly too long, cut 'em like kite strings

Its basic, take steps to break dead spaces or rest in distress with all

The stone faces

Verse 2: Felix

I get a dollar for my thoughts, got a hundred ideas

And laugh like the Joker while you’re reduced to tears

Tears are what you get a little dent in your pride

I’m a play the back like the rainbow sticker on your ride

Lost my peace of mind when Jam Master Jay died

Role model from the get go, inspiring, guide

First rap tape I ever had was Run DMC

From there the voice of Hip Hop imbedded in me

So what’s inside of you?

A can of worms, burning pockets

Your a cap throw up, I’m heavy metal block hits

Shit hits the fan I brought my umbrella

Make kids nod their heads when I flip an accapella

These fellas.

well they wrote the book on incompetence

I act like Erykah Badu and work with my common sense

Hence whenever I try, I’m doomed to succeed

This is rap mother fuckers words are better than deeds

Stick with it that’s what I say, this is not a democracy

You’ve stumbled into class, its Felix style philosophy

The shit that I cook up might not be the best

But you put me on the clock, I’m doper than your favorite Iron Chef

Ask Chen Kinichi, he’ll tell you how he feels

You’re far too salty serve hotter for appeal

Your brain bones connected to your ass bone, that’s real

Could’a been dope, but you was spoiled, broken seal