Miko Suave - The Golden Record

Genetics above average
The lyrically inferior, chains get tangled need a unraveller
Niggas couldn't be me if they was working in Gattaca
Stupid nigga fuck rockin bezels in the ghetto i'm a time traveler
You sink in quick sand as i toast with a hourglass
Sound like P.U.N. on you Pussy Undercover Niggas
Got a gat i call punisher turn you to Flo joe
Twin towers blast at ya coward ass, none of ya powers last
Push up daises don't forget a vase
Snub nose hit ya nose, no face no case
No trace ain't safe
Ain't gotta be extra but lyrically extraterrestrial
Abducted by E.T.,work miracles
Half StarMan im blessing you
Bitches Trojan poppin boutta go full spartan
Step on Marvin the Martian, many voices in my head Mel Blanc talking
Niggas shit on ya dream like Kevin johnson
Sometimes being open minded leads to closed coffin
So get the fuck out my face

Nigga i need my space (Ima need my space)
Back up give me like 50 feet (50 feet)
Before i leave ya brains splattered in the street (In the street)
This should be on BET jams of the week
Bitch i need my space (Ima need my space)
Please get the fuck off a nigga meat
You know i got a lady and i don't creep
Told me she wanna give me cheeks in a jeep

About 42 years ago humanity sent out a message
You got plaques on ya wall? well hey NASA, i found the voyager golden record
Bought a turntable to check it
I heard no hip hop so i broke the vinyl in half
DC's finest you trash, you ass you last
I put em in a line and i blast
Don't ask, i mash the task, the survivor with cash
I laugh behind a mask, grab the 45 out the stash, give you a blast from the past
A shot from the future, guillotine from medieval times
Ivan the terrible with evil rhymes
See my lines, heated nines, we define police as swine
This ain't the kids choice awards you don't wanna see my slimes
You on thin ice acting funny just tryna roast the comic
I put em on skates like a CarHop at Sonic
Take shots at me you die tryna bar hop i promise
Slaughterhouse pigs in a blanket, roll em up in a carpet
Could be the Apple of my eye, but it's rotten
So my eyes on ya apple bottom
The sky ain't the limit just a home for the born fly
The ceiling ain't the top even though the Sistine Chapel happened
But rats on the stand imitating the creation of Adam
In Vatican imagining the fans chant as im rapping then travel to Africa
African Americans challenging, battling and hassling
This shit don't stop,Bon my mission to space
Vietnam baby throw ya V's up like Mr. Spock

Written by:
Sam Bullock

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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