Hot Bref Testo

Peace, peace, peace, peace
Peace, peace, peace, peace

One, two
Yuh, yuh, yuh
Tryna find the right loophole in Glasgow
Pulled up in the Peugeot, stepped out
Drip like Inspector Clouseau
Puff some hot breath on the Hublot, if only
Binary consciousness, errant pompousness Shaka Zulu's verse, Clarence Thomas’
At that time, I was trafficking in airy promises
Hustling the margin of error can bе an accomplishment
Contravening the inimical
Thе polemic gesticulating at the pinnacle
Magically, do you smell vinegar?
I squint like Forest Whittaker
You in the forest with a trickster and a gasoline tapestry
Haggling for life boats
Downbeat on the upstroke, kissy face cutthroat
The rhinoceros charging
When I rap, it sound like arguing amongst people
I'm with the shits like a dung beetle
The idea was to use Funk to fight evil
Enlightenment is lethal
It be like bebop roots, dreadlock spook, hummingbird's eye view
En vue, through the veneer of hot potato
In the living room, you’ll find pieces of me, boxed and labelled
Ready for shipping and handling
I'm with the rampant dismantling Of self and surrounding syntax and outlook
Bent back paper clips in house shoes
Notice how my mouth moves, while I sing the blues
While I sing the blues
While I sing the blues

I'm the minstrel man, I'm the cleanin' man
I'm the poor man, I'm the shoeshine man
I'm a nigga man, watch me then
I got God in me, can’t you see
I got God in me, can’t you see
I got God in me, can't you see
I’m a nigga man

I'm not the thinker, I'm watching the thinker
Stoppers, pop lockers, floaters, sinkers
Clockers, beamers, roses and stinkers
Jiggers, splits, lickety
My hips rickety
Persnickety goblin, hard sighin' through another cold call
Snow falls in the frosted landscape of my heart
I hear what you sayin’, but my brain is not a mechanical part
Seeking nothing, found I self
Cheeky bluffing through the valleys and volleys
Forays and hobbies, sprees and opening salvos
Tulips placed under brown nose were smelled often
The doctor lookin' at me like the petals fell off 'em
Soul coughin', goalpost rotten
There's pain in my dreams often
I wouldn't expect you to understand this
You not been left behind and forgotten
So, pardon me while I split this square with the—
Fella who live under the bridge up here
Yeah, this my stop, right here
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