EcheSketch - Seven Remix lyrics

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EcheSketch - Seven Remix lyrics

[VERSE 1: ECHESKETCH] There's still soccer in the Central lands, but I'll break God's goals If I was really dumb, I would try to drive my car with a Playstation console The only reason your here is because someone hid your mom's birth control My style leaves you in dismay Making you exclaim, "Attention attention, mayday mayday!" The goons we all say we're 2Pac in his hayday Do you have the guts to f** with the lyrical genius? I actually used to respect Wayne and the gang movement he's with (He's a blood) Enough of the extra, perform raps berith Damn to me rap was everything I'm hungry for some game like Katniss Everdeen I freak when Wayne tells me he's the best M.C Yeah, I give you props on TC3 But why do you think best when you dose on the THC Don't fret it's in the pocket of every average teen I was the unexpected n***a who did it like the Mavericks team If I really wanted beef I'd ask for a Mcdonalds' Chicken Supreme Your mind is the dirt, let my lyrics plant the seed [VERSE 2: ECHESKETCH] Man I'm f**ing done Run and say it was just for fun, like they saw that I packed a gun Disses like that I could shun I chew on lasers and tasers, so my lyrics stun I bought the Wendy's shirt with, "Where's the beef?" stiched on the front This isn't f**ing gloating I don't give a f** unlike Kenyon Woods and their who*e teens (haha) I diss you, and you puff like Daddy and the teacher who gives lessons on boating This Seven remastered, twice as better, so it must be a hundred f**ing 14 (114) [VERSE 3: ECHESKETCH] Man these n***as don't know what I really mean I'm winning, I'm winning like Charlie Sheen Watch me blast through this rap with no stutter Hijack and blow your mind, no box cutter Man you n***as all talk crap and you know I don't want to hear that I'm a real G at rap Why don't you go back to your momma It'll save you all that trauma If you don't go now you'll end up with a hole in your head like Osama I'll cut you up like the taxes after the office was took by Obama Can't you see? I spit this sh** like a llama Viciously, now who's dissing me? I hope in the future this sh** sells hot like 140 degrees I'm not a f**ing delinquent I'm crazy, send me to a precinct Don't call out my name, I'm absent I'm moving down the line like an ncca bracket My flow sicker than a crack addict With her immune system lowered "Nah you ain't going to make it." Yeah I'll f**ing show her I sit back, let these f*ggots pa**, burn gra**, and crush gla** You all collapse at the simplest tasks I'll let you all cast the future from my shady past God weighs on me that's why I go to ma** Twisted mind, p**n fetishes, speech impediments Your pants are being filled with sediment Nervous as f**, so I f** with you for the hell of it I'm trying to be generous I beat Rihanna to the tempo of "Look at me now." These hits are blinding, named myself Manny Pacquiao I might be a violent pacifist Do I really believe in the ways of Catholics I write down these lyrics and save them for later, it's a Seran rap I made them follow orders, puppets, I'm Gepetto And how you n***as s**, it's like I'm recieving fel**tio I wasn't born in the ghetto But I went to a nice school called Fox Meadow I crashed landed on this planet Now who's the lyrical bandit They talk sh** so I wash out their mouth with Suave I'll take out a twix and give you it to make you stop and pause [OUTRO] Goons are running sh** like Usain, who's Jamaican This is the pleasure I get, like masturbation And the temptation, to state to the whole nation I'm the living dedication, of all the real M.C's dead from popped bullet casing