Anthrolyricology - Payment On Delivery (feat. Mozenraff)
We try'na do our thing
Know you recognize the flow
Wrap it in a package
To deliver to your door
Never, in your dreams
Could you ever be a clone
We send a peasant packing
Ain't gon' never see the throne
Never under the beat, cause I'm on top of it, consider this the condiment
Can't call it quits, until I grip the public and astonish it
Won't stop if they beg me, popping like a semi-automatic
Something deadly, leave 'em frantic, nothing friendly
Make offerings to the music, when I aim for your chest
Take off with your brain and bruise it, getting painfully blessed
Aging, but stress don't factor in, I tame the B.S
And disrespect the opposition 'til there ain't none left
Keep it pushing, 'til my soul wears down to the bone
Grown colder, over the years, and need no warm clothes
Come close, I'mma let you have it and receive no proceeds
Don't sleep, on a motherfucker, waking you up
Turn stage into Pompeii when the volcano erupts
Ain't even in yet, we just at the cusp
We keep 'em plugged in with the realness, we fucking it up
I let it swing 'til I've busted a nut
We try'na do our thing
Know you recognize the flow
Wrap it in a package
To deliver to your door
Never, in your dreams
Could you ever be a clone
We send a peasant packing
Ain't gon' never see the throne
I won't need no biopic, just read my fucking rhymes
Watch Yo Clock, no, Hold This Dick, sow seeds, it ain't no crime
We ain't no Prhyme, we more like Black Star, hit your shrine
Pay interest on that car, don't lack bars, do this all the time
Y'all do this all for dimes, Vines from Vinyls, fucked it all up
You're Suge Knight or you're Puff, sign 'em just to suck
These cucks in chucks with monster trucks, flexing for the crux
Ain't resurrected, still tucked in dirt, martyr for the lux
Ann Arbor for the bucks, pardon shards of hardened glass
Empty gardens, a whole class just here to kiss The Carter's ass
Judy Garland, hit up Holland, milk of almonds in your pitcher?
Pencils sharpened, darling, 300 Spartans hit your mixer
30 olives for your liquor, a carton and some swishers
Garbage in the whispers, bark like X, XY your zipper
Thought should exercise? Fuck you think I'm chewing?
Energized clever mixtures, fuck you think I'm doing?
We try'na do our thing
Know you recognize the flow
Wrap it in a package
To deliver to your door
Never, in your dreams,
Could you ever be a clone
We send a peasant packing
Ain't gon' never see the throne
It's Mozenraff! Critical lyrical shipments of truth
I got dreams, pain and commitment, all in this booth
My roof is drunk from bass, my floor's a trunk for the basement
I'm standin' on this Rap City with more bars than Tyga
More lines than Tigger's fur, Payment on Delivery
Invisible throne, hop is for the movement, hip is for what's known
I got scones and cones full of kush, it's just fuel for the rhyme
Fat caps and LSD, that's just fuel for my mind
I rip blinds just to see the view shine
I rip SOUL.DOPE. beats like it's '95
Poetry, there odes to me, your story is old to me
Kiss my cold shoulder, ice got your tongue
Cat piss got your lung, COD got you hung
This package cannot be slung
Pulling over fire trucks, I'm going Postal, son
I'm Mozenraff, I'm BLAQKNOIZ, I'm hiphop, I'm done (talking P.O.D)
We try'na do our thing
Know you recognize the flow
Wrap it in a package
To deliver to your door
Never, in your dreams
Could you ever be a clone
We send a peasant packing
Ain't gon' never see the throne
Ain't no shame, do your thang
Written by:
Emmanuel Moultrie, Erik Menendez, Jack Mabie
Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
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