Pizza Pockets

(Part 1: Tyranus)

Papas hot as stove cheese is nachos I need a lot of dough
All is possible with profit margins keep it logical
Feed the greedy goblin feasting often’s how I got it oh and
We can see the talk is cheap it’s charming leave deposits though

You thought it’s optional? I copy pasta with the cross promote
Start or stop the show with every bar I wrote phenomenal
Got the art to post the beat the drop you know will rock the boat
I’m from the town where frowns will get your toddler thrown
It’s not a joke

I got a pot of gold it’s all on lock I rock Guantanamo
Invest in stock and homes don’t got a job I’m clocking dollars though
I’m awesome bro I hit the lotto drove and flown across the globe
I’m hard to scope an optical illusion musics hostile host

I bought a chain that sparkles cars and plates I’m balling look at me
I’m cooking hooks crookedly writing dining on Wookiee meat
What is life? Is it good to me?
Money and prices luring me desires of living life wherein I have no insecurities

I need a rocket for people plotting to stop the show
The cheese I got it like pizza pockets I’m hot to go

Stack your sauce up you get panned I’m panna cotta
Who the man, Tyranus author, map his mark attack and conquer
Loser cats can challenge, off em. Shooting banter rather often
Soon to have a snack I gotta Chew on rats like anacondas

Human cannonball a damage dodger had to smash your wall up
Blackest mamba had to harm em keep the cheese I’m master mozza
Who is Realer? None. I got em bitter huh? I guess they went and bit enough
I’m hidden cuz the kids militia got the filth guerrilla cuts

So give it up cause when the pen erupts you’re friggn finished son
Send em in dismemberment with ginger when is dinner done?
Forget your luck it’s spent you suck so deep that all your swimmers sunk
Forget the script and lyrics if the benjamins don’t get to ya

I need a rocket for people plotting to stop the show
The cheese I got it like pizza pockets I’m hot to go

I need a rocket for people plotting to stop the show
The cheese I got it like pizza pockets I’m hot to go

Wait till the green rise and he tries retirement
They need rhymes from
The three eyed Levi leviathan
All the rest are knee high
Weak whine and cry and wish
That they could hope to beat my
Neat lines they try and quit
Tiny violins will be required
I’ll provide the script
Bombastic magnum opus crashing shows
Don’t know I’m flying in
Sky dive mic is live and spit the nicest bright and crisp
Stick the landing after giving fans a night they’ll likely miss

Like what’s the price of this??
Dammit why’d he quit??

(Part 2: Abu Kong)

(They’ll never see it coming)

I peep your spot, I creep up on it
Me who used to seek the prophets
See the rocket meet your socket
Speak discreet and reach you wallet

Chicken nugget, frikkin puppets
Licking nuts and getting fucked
And sickly touched and fifty blushes
Just to get a cut above us

I see you see me, me and EB simply be in BG
Speaking freely so they really feel the heebie jeebies

You freaks are fraggle rock
Idris a freaking phantom ahk
I’m packing a javelin on the back of a jabberwock

Half of an African on the path that a panther walk
Rap with the acumen and the talent that Malcolm taught
Laughing in traffic I’m passing pigs on the chatter box
The bastards are callous attackers turning their cameras off

Well we’re coming. We’re spear chucking fear nothing
Deer youngin clear cutting out from mere fussing
The moment is ours your culture is coward
It’s over this hour the vultures devoured now toast to my power!

Either Tyson, or Idris, or call me Abu Kong

Being nice or being evil dropping atom bombs

Sacrificial sheep, leave em at the creatures feet

Breathing deep I even sink my teeth in demon meat

The pro de facto. You better hope they hold me back yo
Or those opposables will grope your broken adam’s apple
Stack your cadaver and master your massa’s grammar
From knowing the propaganda to grabbing and throwing cameras

Motion detecting
You open deception
I’m over your heaven
And pose of redemption
I’m post Armageddon
Opposing your section
I broke your protection and
Rose to perfection
With focused erection
The chosen ghost of a legend

More gorilla than Attila, stomp a hollow on your plateau
Tyranus goes Bananas and his status, that is smash bros
You assholes. I’m the monster under your bed
I’ve got a son with the dreads who sees his hunger is fed

The statue is given from Abu to Ibn
I’m passing the wisdom, of practical living
The champion vision, the fact and the fiction
Unmasking the villains, the path to perdition
The man on a mission to slap the shit out the rhythm

I’m pennywise, a pound of flesh, you punks are pizza pockets
Scores are coming hoards are running boy you need to stop it
I call an audible and watch em fall like dominoes
I toss a Molotov and holler off Geronimo!!