Time - Chasing Ghosts

I summon Ghosts with weed smoke hittin' blunts to the Face Killah
Dutch Master be the wrap, the flavor that French Vanilla
I might twist a Game, a Philly or RAW papers
I can feel it in the air, the smoke screen, steam the vapor
I get up on the mic and move the crowd like a poltergeist
You catch the holy-ghost , Jesus Christ the kid is nice
Pseudo rappers get sacrificed, I send them to the afterlife
So I can sell their souls in hell for half the price

Sparkin' up the flame hit the blunt and blow smoke
Watch it float, relax and take notes, I talk to ghosts
Everytime they visit I'm inspired by their quotes
So when I kick a rhyme I make sure they know its dope
Buddah bless me, the spirit of hip hop possess me
Energy's eternal, I feel like the legends testin' me
Chillin' in the cypher, I connected through a séance
My soul resonates with the rap renaissance
Shang Tsung the soul collector, the verbal MC Escher
Dr Jekyll, Mr. Hyde, I stay fly like Clyde Drexler
The professor, professional, never no Poindexter
Killin fake emcess when in the lab so call me Dexter
I decimate, eviscerate , leaving lacerations
No time to hesitate, the fake expire from suffocation
While you perpetrate and playa hate, I'm chillin, copasetic
Rusty razor blades slice your shit up, no antiseptic
My directive, you get infected by the style I master in
Slaughter your respiratory plus your plasma from the pathogens
If Michael Jackson was alive he'd say "no ones as bad as him"
I'm spittin phlegm up in ya face and then my knuckles check ya chin
I murder ya' team solely like Kobe against the Raptors
As cold as the flow be, I freeze the factions of phony rappers
Scatter your ashes turnin' you into anti-matter faster
So my only concern is smokin' the herb I'm burnin' after

Ayo the weed is an incense, stimulate ya sixth sense
Blow a dense cloud of smoke, attract spirits with the scent
Burn down to the last inch, save that roach for a tight pinch
I never choke, I stay inhaling the shit like I was French
Flow heavenly, 'specially when I roll the reefer recipe
My specialty, sending fake emcees to meet their destiny
I desecrate you, disappear, investigators question me
Out of necessity you rest in peace for testin' me

My book of lyrics is a Ouija board I use to talk to spirits
Spit the shit so they can hear it and then I receive clearance
Apparitions make an appearance, I channel they soul
I hold the microphone, the connection flows, I'm in control
The blunts that I roll hit harder than Mike Tyson
The Duel of the Iron Mic, the flying fatal strike sun
When I write I perform the sacred rite of necromancers and
Bring the dead back to life, the ancestors will answer
I'm the chancellor spreading the sickness malignant cancer
You already know my stance, smoke a spliff then kick a stanza
The phantom, casting a curse with each verse
To make your mind burst, you'll need a hearse or maybe worse
Play this in reverse you'll be the first to need an exorcist
Your neck twistin' til it hurts, immersed in my excellence
Disperse the plague in a wave, I spray poetic pestilence
Destroyin' all credible evidence of you incredulous bastards
Gotcha gaspin like athsma, you turn to Casper
Get caught in the miasma, nothing short from a disaster
I deliver your eulogy, Time, the poetic pastor
Send niggas to greener pastures only because I have ta
I lay souls to rest, smoking sess got me blessed
So tell the ghosts of the vets, I got this so don't stress
Twist the blunt up, set it on fire and let it burn
I do this as an offering as I ash in your urn

Written by:
Timothy Davis

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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