[trap.]

02-26-2002


atari

one day this faker Satan thought he'd decide-to-chance,
steppin up with no weapon up just idle hands, you deserve not a work shop
supplyin demands of evil pursuasion, your name's biblical I reign physical
jesus-is-sayin " he is amazin".. while you brang-typical lame-rituals
speak sentences with weak images and feigned-visuals..
it's depth-ya-missin don't know the definition, transfixed by the damn clips
so to blandness you get-to-listen, while techs-is-spittin, AL's directin wisdom
wreck-ya-vision.. you can't see "faces of death" like ya family mornin ya
portrait they take-what-is-left, after I cave in ya chest ya wake's where ya rest, any fakes care to test? just then I bust in, build up my rep like construction, no question I crush men, AL's the best and he must win.

satan

AL an intolerable-child, not even wit a free u still don’t have a reliable-style
Smile, feeling wild? like shit stored yo verse compiled dookey in numbers I make u redial
1800 collect your calling indirects? Like a white cop in the ghetto I piss on yo projects
flex, Rhymes got u Perplex. Having sex wit dildos only way u remenis on yo objects
Like Keanuo Reeves I compose yo Matrix, puffin on heads cause all u do is blow dicks
Show trix like da bunny gone wild I appose tricks like a mix u supposed vicks
For coughing and drowsiness u offering lousiness, yo wackness confuse me
AL the clown cause he amuse me when u snooze I abuse and u refuse to agree
Like an asparagus I bloom-yo-skill, I zoom-yo-will. Like tic tac I perfume-yo-grill (he got a stanky verse)
I assume-yo-until I go fo the kill like bad kids in boot camp I appose-yo-drill