​Milo

Yet Another
Yah Yah Yah Yah Yet another, American Apparel tomb Feral coon, cat scratch fever in a sterile room Reviewing Tim Kaine's relationship goals while peril looms My materials will fail me soon And yet still, complete as a apple core Rap remind me of the Apple Store Too many geeks selling trinkets in uniform Clay under my fingernails Etched it in cuneiform Break out the nae-nae, then the Methuselah pop And I feel like Arthur Miller when The Crucible drop The tragic mulatto is neither Ajamu Baraka with a scyther We are no longer an ordinary peoples Occupy myself like an off-roading vehicle And that DJ over there He tried to buy power over Karma I giggle softly like I'm Wilmer Valderrama Hosting a show about Yo Mama jokes Treat the last scene like an Aphorism Like a... Like a... Letras de cancionesAnd that DJ over there Tried to buy power over Karma I giggle softly like I'm Wilmer Valderrama Hosting a show about Yo Mama jokes Treat the last scene like a Like a Need a straw for my holy nose Which is broke as a camel's back Clef a camel in Camelot Pride and poor You get smoke like that You must smoky Then smoky rap And said, rapping, "Some kid named Bruce Didn't want to do his folks But shit They shouldn't of moved," I bob like I'm from the rock I could probably show you the groove You kiddies lacking the drive Set the alarm and then hit the snooze Responding to colored killings By taking pictures in suits Keep telling me speak the real (You can't handle the truth!) Who are you? Silverstein Writing my pain away on the silver screen Heh heh... *pew pew* And yet another tragic scene Killed over skittles? No wonder they take magic beans Quell all the ra-ra shit Before I get it shaking like the Parkinson's See ya niggass want to smoke? I got the maples, couple swishers Cement blocks up on your feet It's laying dormant with the fishes I play the game while y'all squat by the fences But God, a pussy boy? No Humphrey I found solace in my dungeon Fanatics want the work? Shit I'm already punching I ain't scared of contact I'll catch you past [?] Pristine, touchless You couldn't touch this I'm in the tundra Ground zero watch the world burn to sun And money make it all better And they'll take it all away if you let them All I ever had was my soul and my essence That's bigger than bowling balls You got guns like chicklins Never bout the chatter Boys like little women Snickering and chittering Little fiction bitch My whole life is fictionless (yah) Walk and talk What is the essence? I take pride up in my presence And the presents that I learned is lessons Feeling old, I know my death ain't older Every day I take measures to warm my soul up So I don't feel colder Keep the fire flaming Even though they fire aiming at our friends And family, can we Continue? Yes we sho' will That's our end of the deal That is our sacred seal For real Present the present and then choose No left, no right, no win, no lose Buckle up your shoes Uh, yeah No Ponzi, just go, oh Just let it flow-oh-oh-oh From Letras Mania