Mingling lyrics

It’s like farrakahn say, a new thing is happening today It’s sweet to blaspheme beats when you ain’t got-ta pay But the ancients stress patience. The agent knowledge ancients If I take my time, what can I can’t spit Don’t exist. The moment bliss, myself and I kiss You know it’s bonafide, certified hotness From the muthafreakin’ major deegan To the 5 interstate. Mildly penetrate, like the khalua Place the homogenized to bass I philosophize Grace the demonic guys and space. I’m outta dodge My interests include flow, love and war The hip championship I’m thuggin’ for So take the flyest rook’s rhyme book like a leak And freak. Page 43: The jet beauty of the speak Now I don’t really know but some city said The grand came through, left this kid mic for dead Ya minglin’ wit mayhem slim What up star? Word to kenneth, we ain’t in the same You better off spectatin’, speculatin’ the aim Rest assured, I got the fresh mature listeners locked On some extra-next-texturized imagery stock Inspired by only the desire to be The mega-interworld poster man-child for emcee Ya minglin’ wit mayhem slim Ya minglin’ wit mayhem slim Ya minglin’ wit mayhem slim Ya minglin’ wit mayhem slim If this ain’t ill, dub don’t commence wit the drum fill And it don’t take a late night to make it tight Willie bigger than a billy squier beat but comprehends None of what I spead Him see-through cuz him pretend Now I don’t really know but some city said The grand came through, left this kid mic for dead From the front page of final call, genocide bellowed They ain’t understand this kid mic was made of metal I jetted though, runnin’ for good credit of course Cuz rap shit own my life since james brown was the source And girls act stupidly when I be spillin’ ‘em Text like they chest was silicon and I was feelin’ em But they numb, dumb in the skull as I be cold getting Ya minglin’ wit mayhem slim, it’s soul-splittin’ Pick up the pieces like the bread that be Jesus With the welch’s that’s the blood I know you felt like half a thug When I came in the door, spit somethin’ raw Then broke fast like we on a twenty city tour Yo, salaam-alaikum on behalf of the move-fakin’ Who’s bacon? Biblically, it’s mine for the takin’ Technically, the recipe is unwritten Cuz all these gun smitten rappers just be fuelin’ the era Ya minglin’ wit mayhem slim Ya minglin’ wit mayhem slim Ya minglin’ wit mayhem slim Ya minglin’ wit mayhem slim This is the grand age Clear the stage Recommit. Get on some other shit You in the grand age nigga. Clear the stage Yom-sayin’ Bounce!