Legs

[Hook]
I still got legs
I can still walk
Watching how I dance man
Watch how I talk
Flipping lyricism in your face like pancakes
And ripping, hear me glisten in the limelight like hand chains
I still got legs
I can still walk
Watching how I dance man
Watch how I talk
Flipping lyricism in your face like pancakes
And ripping, hear me glisten in the limelight like hand chains

[Verse 1]
Tell me how you really wanna get it now
Tell me how you wanna hit that
See that those sentences have no substance
Take a shot to the appendix
The only time I’m pumping you full of lead
Is with this mechanical pencil
You sluggish, I’m running ahead
The mic is my manic utensil (Me, me)
Me plus a mic, I'm arithmetic
Don’t believe it?, check the statistics
Bring it back now
All these other MC’s dropping F-bombs
Like Batistas in Hiroshima
Teachers ain’t educating us correctly
Yeah so yeah they need Jesus
Or maybe a preacher
To seat each of them down
But then I crash the party so lethal like
“Does he have half of his tighty whities shoved up his asscrack?”
“It’s like 11:41, and why would you ask that?”
Scratch that, it’s past that
Keeping that up, and you won’t be trolling longer
Fibbing that when you go pissing at the bathroom
That your dick’s so long it drops in the toilet water
And I can’t wait till the day that I go platinum
RI double A failed to do the job like a popped Magnum
Pull out the magnum
Cock it back, full magazine
Spray the gat, ain’t no going back
After that action, geez

[Hook]
But I still got legs
I can still walk
Watching how I dance man
Watch how I talk
Flipping lyricism in your face like pancakes
And ripping, hear me glisten in the limelight like hand chains
I still got legs
I can still walk
Watching how I dance man
Watch how I talk
Flipping lyricism in your face like pancakes
And ripping, hear me glisten in the limelight like hand chains

[Verse 2]
No artificial lyricism, but I gotta make it pop
Make sure the kick punches through your speakers next time that the beat drops
A mic and a corpse in a casket
My metamorphosis is unmatched
I ain’t no more or less you bastard
My cerebral cortex at the max
Nah, scratch that
Pull out the pen
Make it touch paper
Forget a lighter, yeah I’m the propane or
I’m as fresh as some toothpaste
Touching the sky like Lupe
Y’all as fake as a toupee
Wishing that you could sing ballads like Michael Bublé
But you resolve to Auto-Tune, hey
Spitting on the due date
Sippin’ Kool-Aid on a Tuesday
No bootleg
You jealous, huh?
I’m a Canadian mess, just tryna spit a song
Guess I’m just late
We could resolve in a better way
Than pulling out the gat, cock it back, be ready to spray
Huh, yeah
I said you better run
I want some zest, add a lemon? Sure
I keep my rhymes at their best potential, your’s are room temperature (Haha, yeah)
(This is prime time rapping
You see what goes down)

[Hook]
But I still got legs
I can still walk
Watching how I dance man
Watch how I talk
Flipping lyricism in your face like pancakes
And ripping, hear me glisten in the limelight like hand chains
I still got legs
I can still walk
Watching how I dance man
Watch how I talk
Flipping lyricism in your face like pancakes
And ripping, hear me glisten in the limelight like hand chains

[Outro]
Woo!