Flypaper

[Chorus: *samples*]
"I throw ya' brain in the cobra clutch"
"Real- real- real motherfuckers better recognize real"
"A dazzling display if you can get close enough"
"We the- we the- we the rawest motherfucking clique in the field"

[Verse 1: Bender]
This is the jump-off, come on, let 'em faceplant the ceiling
Now raise hands like you're holding spray cans
It's fire for the breakdancers, graffiti writers, the beat designers
The emcees and the DJs, the heat suppliers
Yeah, the shit that we're flipping is wild
Building a pile of kids that mimic but still exhibit a limited style
Throw in the towel, we got 'em afraid to open they mouths to make a whisper
Putting they cribs on tape surveillance like I'm a lazy babysitter
Fact of the matter is we're quick to the punch
And catch daps in every city that you wish you were from
Last laugh we'll see who gets it once your gimmicks are up
When half-ass raps don't cut it and you're left in the dust
Hit of the palm with the ripple effect the minute we drop, yes
Giving a critic definitive image be spitting this intricate frost next
Finish 'em off, death one grip of the bomb that sits in my palm check son
The rhythm is slick it'll drip past the limits and odds leaving these heads stunned
So send us your best ones, if not then take a walk
We tightly tie the tongues together too twisted to truly taste or talk
It's FD, about to know it in a minute
Next up the cumulus head, exploding on your picnic

[Verse 2: Patience & *sample*]
This microphone sound current transmits to my wrists
Rapping immaculate accurate facts that'll fracture your back with a twist of my grips
This winter king's lifeblood could freeze most the Pacific
It's leaked open and given, my speech broach the specifics
I'm indifferent to your attempts at what you call hip hop
I'd like to see everyone getting their peaceful careers that all lift off
But since the Distance gives it a hundred and ten your cousins and friends will diss it
Bludgeon and covet it upwards and dozens of functions and fuckers would love to dismiss it
"What is it?" I'm not in a valid mood or phase of my life
They hand me a marker to write my rhymes I couldn't use as a razor or knife
Just playing his music like Suicide, I need fucking respect
I'm an actual pacifist activist that's had it up to his neck
Flight, like the phoenix we need it to trace the distance
Nights, in my dreams it's indecent we face the difference
Flight, you could deem it unequal we take the distance
Omnipotent English mastery casually trap what they say is wisdom
Daily faces' placement state my ways to face the grind of my sight
Feeling lies of mannequin adequacy that attack when I'm trying to write
Two emcees and one DJ, we're getting live for the night
So throw your headphones on no bed till dawn prepare for the ride of your life

[Chorus: *samples*]
"I throw ya' brain in the cobra clutch"
"Real- real- real motherfuckers better recognize real"
"A dazzling display if you can get close enough"
"We the- we the- we the rawest motherfucking clique in the field"