Takin Ya Cookies (Ft. Skunkzz)

[Flashius Clayton]
Me and Skunkzz with some Puerto Rican stunts
Drinking Clicquot mimosas while we eating brunch
Spiced rum daiquiri punch, my goblet raised
I'm shooting dice with Finn over by the omelette station
Address the congregation, flex the domination
Bless ya college station with the freshest compilation
The regular operation, Money Makin enterprise
I exemplify the meaning of Semper Fi
Invent the fly shit, make the temperature rise
I’m five eleven, walk around like I’m seven foot nine
Hit a spin, then a slide, dip and dive off the stage
My knife got a 500 carat diamond blade
Blood in my eyes left a stain inside the page
Unleash the tidal wave, release the lion from the cage
My words deserving of the highest praise you can bestow
Every verse you hear is perfectly seared filet mignon
'92 Racing plate Stadium Lo
Dipped in wears more rare than Arabian Snow
My skin tone bathed in a radiant glow
Syncopated flow, sprinkling the break beat with blow
Make em eat crow, dishes unfit for a king
But perfect for a bum that ain’t done shit on the scene
Flashius and Skunkzz dumping clips on ya team
Cause we need to see you squeamish sons of bitches bleed
Sincerity is pure, I’m genuinely eager
Lead an extraordinary league of gentleman of leisure
The pen is full of Ether and other volatile gases
When I write, I gotta wear protective goggles and glasses
Y’all non-factor Muthafuckas drop a lotta passes
My faction, dropping red hot hits and classics
Knocking ashes off of mad large jazz cigars
My heart badly scarred, but I’m still standing tall
Hard-handed bars with the strong granite jaw
Fans of the raw fuck with Knuckle Sandwich squad
Location unknown, with Skunkzz and Sally Ghost
On a 90 foot yacht anchored off the Cali Coast
No socks, rock the nonslip Sperry Boat Moc
I’m the stone soup hustler that’ll share the whole pot
Got the drop on you at the karaoke spot
Put you in a Davy Jones locker burial plot
Pour wet cement in ya Timbs and let you swim
Painful unanswered questions for your next of kin
How many dead men had to pay the priceless tax?
One text, wipe you off the map for like a rack