Typical Cats - Qweloquiallisms lyrics

(Qwel) For the hell of it You spit irrelevant Delicate flows Speak child Intelligent, Mellow sh** k**s fellowships bellowing freestyles Smile. Punch lines can crush the spines of the skeptics Perfection stepped in Three guesses who the best is Check it, Check it Hello, Hello Yo Yo I am, I ams dumb, dumb Can, Can Qwel, Qwel rock, rock? Well, Well um, um Fear, fear kids, kids Cans, cans spray paint now, now Look out below, where's that flow you were shoutin' bout so loud? Crush flows in mudslides I'm ‘Ha-Ha'– that raw with punchlines Funny like when a thug's son dies at moonrise I'm sunshine Echos in graveyards are speakin' of us(Echoed) Seekin to touch those rainbow demons breathin' beneath graffiti buffs Feed the needy f**ing bleeding down the side of silver snakes Hollering a hollow ‘save god Dollars in graveyards fill your graves Listen through submission and sadistic cultures And demon's guns surround our suns like Copernicus-tic vultures Soldier's clothed in golden Souls in carca** hearses Curse in first-person And search for serpents in our verses Your crew bleeds too profusely Who gave groupies loosely Standing over the remains of a slain fifth-grade cla** mate Who's got cooties Excuse me, emcees Pretending not to envy me But readily sending me these seas of frenzied centipedes Motherf**ers lack intensity And can't rhyme either I see words, split 'em in twice with reverbs Become a believer You blow like you're Pop Rocks with 3 liters The sh**'s on Snap your fat lackin' tracks in half Mine are big-boned These styles be free Qwel sees above weak emcees Decibel levels And infinitesimal Testicle Jokes Investin'in broke for lines Not as dope as mine Needs work Rehearse your speech slurs I won like three thirds Censor the census On my five senses And unis** the mutants 'Till the glitches in my wrist digits salute the richest humans The worst heard herbal verbalist My thirst for herbs further disturbs this itch Servin' kids, track Tourniquets Smashin' furnishings after cla** With the get in your a** pa**, rappin backwards Askin' for herbs and the last laugh, laugh