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Everyone wants to go No one can get in... There's this thing called Club 33 It's a really big deal You can't get in no matter what The only way to go there is if you pay this ridiculous fee Where, I mean it's a thousand dollars Like, like a hundred years and all this fucking shit And eventually you gain access, 2K to get in Ay I'm a caterpillar turning into a butterfly Crazy baby with the butter knife singing lullabies Still holding on, hanging tough, writing all the time Hanging on like a koala bear that's overqualified About to go postal, kill everyone like Columbine Almost lost my fucking mind, had to fall in line I'm a member of a secret society But frequently I'm still a freak with anxiety Misguided angel just stays home 'Cause good MCs are hard to find like pagers and payphones Mind's a lethal environment I've got tunnel vision Now that the sun has risen, I have broken out of prison King Kong, rhyme spine tingling, make your skin crawl 'Cause words keep bouncing 'round my head just like a pinball Letras de cancionesMultiples like when I hit multi-bolt, unassaultable Cuffing up a half a half a dozen, that's the cult involved Carrier of art from the heart with no barriers Libra-Scorpio, a Scorpio, a Sagittarius Went from agitated scorpion in a solarium Anonymous piranhas adopting to new aquariums Yeah Mercy me OG like Percee P The beat's a grip but I might drop a verse for free That's a gift I got from me, swift, so dinner on me (swift) Roll it up in a spliff and meet at Club 33 Another K, I don't play another bat tigon Touring like a bag of bomb Tag but I don't tagalong Another day, what's a goon to a goblin? A king to a God, nah, a human to an atom bomb No yellow lines, that's a road I could travel on I spit it clear, ain't no track that I babble on I watch for Jake not Jake One the babble-on And ride the horse into the sun without a saddle on I never fell above hell with the scavengers Choke a rapper 'til he blue mixed with lavender (sad) I always try to be up front like collateral While motherfucker try to play the back and act radical That I prefer to spit at the judge and the jury Unleash the fury I splash Jewry from out the window of the Jimmy'Z wagon I'll flex a muscle on hating ash, bury Bang the metal like a crash derby The pen is my blade To sharpen it I cut flesh to the bone So chemical my stones is arsenic The face carver Sit on a throne like Arthur Pulling strings, no archer Leaving bums out in the cold without a North Face Sparker I take vengeance, rev the race engines Diamonds dancing on dinner plated pendants Cut through the yellow ribbon and made an entrance I played the benches So many lines my code name is great adventures Yo, Six Flags, use your Versace shirt as a dish rag Magic man, I'm digging in my trick bag Do you know what I have for you? ..To enter Club 33, a guest must press the buzzer on an intercom Concealed by a hidden panel at the doorway (Club 33! Air Horn) From Letras Mania