[Geno]

Title: Every Second's Minute's an Hour's a Day.

As a toddler he played, as his crack head mom hollered his name
And his alcoholic father would say, there ain't enough time in a day
for all theese goddamn bottles I've made, wish I had a dollar to save
Every second's a minute's an hour's a day, that he followed their traits
In grade school he forgot to behave, became the psychologists friend
asked to fix his actions, but if you don't know its broken why bother to mend
Fed prescription bottles of meds, forced to medicate from the gate
Ran away at a tender age, but came home and never made his escape
Instead of breaking the plates, mom would say don't ruin the crib
He'd Saracastically quip, "ya right -like you ever put food on the shit"
In his head she was the stupidest bitch, and his dad was the second
As far as he could recollect, they never had any friendship
It didn't matter he reckoned, his dad threatened to punish'em though
Until his ass was beaten by every belt buckle he owned
His struggle sure wasn't good, plus the fact he's born in the hood
Shit'll make you grow quicker than children normally would
An unhealthy mental formula according to books, his story was difrent
In due time he'd be glorious, it was written way before he was infant
But he's gotta change his horrible image, just mature from a fool
failed a few grades before he knew the importance of school
Surely confused, raised by the fiends that were his parents
His attitude was mean, he received packs of demerits
His teachers saw past it though, they know he has some potential
His influence's bad cause of the folks that he was bred through
Clearly had some talent in his adamant pencil, words crafted the cleanest
His format was supreme, he served rappers like a packaging genius
Its something that he mastered with reading, trial nd error was nuts
His introspect was sad emotion, skilled with a terrible touch
His fans were enough to drive him towards a career in the game
Nearer to fame, eventually he changed his whole apperance and name
Became a neighborhood legend, he was destined for shine
Every seconds a minutes an hours a day he was blessed with the rhymes
No problems getting him signed, his hype was like amphetamine lines
He never second guessed his life, but he remembered the climb

Title: Winston Churchill's Masonic Minutemen (Vulgar Collab).

Genocide..
I'm the man, the myth, his legendary pen beside the candlestick
the point of view, misconstrued, and the truth inside the manuscript
A man with wisdom, peeking greater than all of Britains steeples
Peaceful, Once I wrote a book about an english speaking people
Deep cerebral, dark, in depth, the secrets lying on your chest
Lies you've kept, I was in the nightmares adolf hitler often dreamt
Lost in bed, off with his head, where he shared his mothers warmth
I was something pure, before the world would host another war
My name was underscored, next to the rules I penned with ink
I made aquaintences with Roosevelt and John F. Kennedy

Vulgar..
M. Carbine on the dresser, his walking stick a buttered-mantle hickory
Aboard the Sputnik tram he seeked to lead the motherland to victory
As blitzkriegs from the east roasted these punctured lambs of history
Poor Stalin, he’d had enough in his plate, and more problems
War college author and scholar with foreknowledge from Lord Monckton
Winston was a porch golem, stony faced; appearance of a simpleton slug
Pilgrim with smug expressions, pilferage of the Chechens
building an upper section of London, schillings from some election
Desert airfields, winter marshlands, rivers of blood in seconds…
A single question was left: was this a political thug, or legend?

Genocide..
Pinnacle punk intentions or innocent love for peasants with humble motives
Never know I guess, history was nice to him cause he's the one who wrote it
Never qouted until his prophecies more than all appeared correct
people wouldnt pay attention, welcome to blood, toil, tears & sweat
Became the Jewish advocate, after being misunderstood as bluffing
Had some enemies as well, but that's because he stood for something
Ditches dug and bodies dumped, was weird how he'd percieve rumors
Predicted India would fall apart to rascals, rogues and freebooters
And once the trees rooted, good or bad the seeds expand
"Watch lies go half around the world fore the truth put on its pants"

Vulgar..
Orator steps forward, Duke of the Sudan with tubas in two hands
Playing music for the masses, the room’s illumined by huge lamps
He receives newcomers with an envious grace, a sentient face
Telegram enters the place, Enemy base: British Intelligence - RAPED!
He said we’ll fight them on the beaches with raw metal til the smog settles
And God trembles from the frosty ashes of those Holocaust rebels
Wallops marched towards temples, heads tilted, muzzled in close breadth
Because the greatest wars were always the ones with the most dead
The pearly harbor gates opened, in remembrance of this everlasting breeze
U-boats up his arse but had tricks up his sleeve that’d put Leningrad at ease
He’d never have to leave - unless sweeped off into the Cambridge abyss
Or if the elections came calling… for a royal family switch

Genocide..
While innocent by-standers get hit, poparatzi cameras like cancerous cells
Media hell, And churchills face always explains all the answers itself
Ring the Chancellors bells, with a phone call or a knock at the door
If your so sure you'll be stopping the war, then what you locking it for
Old fashioned doctor kavorkian, swastika ornaments, opera accordians
Where talk is only talk, and its never heard by the popular audiance
German helicopter choppers chopping the oxygen, air waves are a mess
Kamakaze bombers, panzer drivers, front line survivors are praying to death
Holocaust chambers taking your breath, blame alien aircrafts for crashing
While they reverse engineer one, the less fortunates beg for rations

Vulgar..
He’d have lucid dreams of English troops in need, hibachis gallopin’
Hibakusha paladins in banquet tuxedos surrounded by Saharan talismans
He was a silver tortoise, slanderous, commandant of fifty Florence analysts
But the gefilte corpses spanned the mist - thanks to a vicious Polish vampiress
Bygones were capturers, trench warfare became more than a tad berserk
More squadrons massacred than an army of barbecued warthogs on placid turf
The Gestapo had collapsed the earth, there were Third Reich’s secret plots
Journeys to Atlantis uncovered the true Ground Zero without a thermite piece of rock
He held a scabbard that glistened like it belonged to Saladin’s mistress
The Battle of Britain, such a splendid view from the caverns of Lisbon..

Title: The G.O.A.T You've All Been Longing For.

Greetings to you, I've been reading shit completely amused
Knowing you want gen to speak his peace like a treaty was due
Ill wipe my feet on these crews, you'll never see how it feels
Praying genocide will drop and land on you to be on his heels
I only speak on the real, compete on the field while you sleep on the bench
The greatest of all time, while you fail to produce signs of equal or less
You majority of people are pests, feeble at best, can't even capture the throne
But we can wreck, just tell your health provider that your accident prone
Axe in your bones, my hatchets are thrown with careful precision
Bystanders'll be singing oh my god, like somekind of carol for xmas
swear you'll be finished, cause gen ain't playing games with you queers
You'll see me preying so hard, hark the herald fucking angel appears
Leaving blood stains on careers, the devils triangles' got me falling from god
My flow is motorboat, you'll catch four strokes like your arteries clogged
There ain't a part of me soft, I'm built hard and to high to be scaled
So if something falls off, its just the fucking climbers who failed
Only diamonds prevail, rest of you stoners are the wackest of guys
You reach my peak, ill throw you head first down like them jackets can fly
I've always capitalized on my strengths in a speech, iincredibly deep