Accordion

Livin' off borrowed time, the clock ticks faster That'd be the hour they knock the slick blaster Dick Dastardly and Muttley with sick laughter A gun fight and they come to cut the mix master I-C-E cold, nice to be old Y2G steed twice to threefold He sold scrolls, lo and behold Know who's the illest ever, like the greatest story told Keep your glory, gold and glitter If I have half of his niggaz'll take him out, the picture The other half is rich and don't mean shit-ta Villain, a mixture between both with a twist of liquor Chase it with more beer, taste it like truth or dare When he have the mic, it's like the place get like, 'Oh yeah!' It's like they know what's 'bout to happen Just keep ya eye out, like, Aye, aye captain Is he still a fly guy clappin' if nobody ain't hear it? And can they testify from inner spirit? (No) In living, the true gods Givin' y'all nothing but the lick, like two broads Got more lyrics than the church got, 'Ooh Lords' And he holds the mic and your attention like two swords Or even one with two blades on it Hey you, don't touch the mic like it's AIDS on it It's like the end to the means Fucked type of message that sends to the fiends That's why he brings his own needles And get more cheese than Doritos, Cheetos or Fritos Slip like Freudian Your first and last step to playin' yourself like accordion When he had the mic, you don't go next Leaving pussycats like wild hoes need Kotex Exercise index won't need Bowflex And won't take the one with no skinny legs like Joe Tex