Ab The Audicrat, Emcee Graffiti, Xkwisit - AGX

Juxtaposition, you pushing agendas of
Crooks cooking in the kitchen
When you coulda been listening
Putting it in to tuition
I own a situation like a slight of hand magician
Put Stock in A-G-X dividends then demand positions
Illiterate emcees like to write with crayons
Like lefties writing with a right hand and scribbling
Worthless verses I wrote in perfect cursive and planned a mission
If you notice pawns protect queens and kings get put in their positions
What The Fuck!
Son I spit lungs, razor sharp and split tongues
Base the way you write, might be a fan of fiction
Big dog don't have the height to stand in this one
Type a manuscript about the life that can't we written
Keep a rusty can of ammunition
Buck shot blast for y'all in case I manage to miss one
Live, laugh, love on ya wall but wifey took a bucket of balls
Off her cheeks listening to Wonderwall
Oasis in her anus when I strummed a guitar
Stunning bars coming hard running yards like a Heisman
Rhyme scheme's a fine meme
Elmo's laser eyes when he nuke the whole horizon
A G X
No tellin where they came from, futuristic flow let the Blade Run
A G X
You better know they name son, Ab hit the beat with insane drums
A G X
No tellin where they came from, futuristic flow let the Blade Run
A G X
You better know they name son, Ab hit the beat with insane drums
I been ready since 0 7 the known weapon
The flow tested perfectin the art of mic checkin
Write records severin heads and ride with my bretheren
Die or survive violence is inside of my method
Apply pressure taking you to the concrete
I bomb beats dog and ya home is another six feet
That's deep trigger clickin like it's a metronome
Better go bird shot scatter like archipelagos
I'm in the lab like a white coat tight rope
Walk a fine line between a knife poke and hype choke
Write smoke forming as the pen hits the pad
More passion in the punchlines than liquor in ya dad
See you chillin with a stack mattafact gimmie that
You gon have to bring the cavalry to try and get it back
I'm tryina count these greens like Coxscakie
I know you feelin shook probably never thought you'd be the dead body
Shut'em down
A G X
No tellin where they came from, futuristic flow let the Blade Run
A G X
You better know they name son, Ab hit the beat with insane drums
A G X
No tellin where they came from, futuristic flow let the Blade Run
A G X
You better know they name son, Ab hit the beat with insane drums

Written by:
Jason Williams, Tim Sullivan

Publisher:
Lyrics © TUNECORE INC, TuneCore Inc., O/B/O DistroKid, Songtrust Ave

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