RED MONKEY:

DJ Panopticon

like how that look?
a mac
wit a mic
and a macbook
can’t write in my black book
that’s like a matchbook
ash on the tracks that i pushed back
book-bag
fulla black soot
bics like backwoods
pass that good
don’t look so surprised rob rap that good
you know how many daps that last rap took
suicide, how many cats that took?
so fulla life
do you know how it feels
when you look em in the eyes
and they lack that look?
the fuck you got to laugh at?
with ya wack ass E.D.M. trap hooks
in ya hash tag hood
want the cash that they can’t tax?
want what ya can’t have?
good
finna fire facts at a facist fat flatfoot cast sack
packed like like a amtrak fulla anthrax and

(VERSE 2)

stash joog
ask jack jook
i asthma attack hooks
tracks like shaq foot
leave shaq shook
like half way crooks
rack lackin rooks
lack a stack of books
tired like a black cadillacs feet
and if ya ask me
who cooked cracks in the crack cooks street
exactly
i always feel like somones watchin watchin
so take a good look at me
don’t look so unhappy
i took a few addies
at ease
not me
rookie of the year
fingers in her *****
sumn mushy in my ear

ass all pent up
back all bent up
adderol in em
and that’s all venom
and with that momentum
and eminem famous
red monkey denim look mamma we made it




so this the young mans perspective
im a rider like my last ambulance
word to the reflection in the camera lens

r-o-b wit a 40 to squeeze
sober please
im in this bitch like ovaries

pop mollys
like the pack pop ollies
mollywhop like stunnaman
stunna shades like protoman
2pac holigrams

young american bastard
yea the malls and the misery
take scape goats throats
and callin that a victory
then callin that history
this the shit we be rewritin
wizard prince viking
on a purple prince bike writin vicodin

check me out
no check me out

gods favorite
cross faded
til im crucified on a cross faded
word to the chrysler i jus got laid in

bitches with big asses
thicker than euro's glasses

killa cali milton bradley
game spitter
in yo hood like we wearin the same sweater

enter the dragon braggin rights
pimp hand, IP Man
still i grab tha knife like samson wife



VERB ON MY NOUN:

i see alot of old faces and i see some new
and i truly appreciatte that...

internal rhymin journal giant
unconcerned if clients
burn or buy it

hope that my fans...no i hope that my fam there
that kenshin himura, that batosai the manslayer


VERSE 1:

workin on a thesis
to convert the non believas
stay up out the hood like circumsized penis

ya know we don’t stop
goin to the top
if we hit rock bottom then we start doin squats

this here means the world to me

sample
beat
verse
features
repeat

been grindin
been refinin my skills
Hope the lyrics ya’ll bitin turn to cyanide pills

so damn bitter
but your no damn quitter
i hope these motherfuckers get it through their neurotransmitters

All the samples mixed
and all of the bars wrote
we toast champagne
n swallow cigar smoke

now i ain’t peaking but
speaking up
got me eatin peking duck
sleep on silk sheets next to big old puerto rican butts
what the check say?
what respect say?
luis v
louis c. k. wit a SK

bitch i’m fly like a spiderweb
money in the cuts
multiplyin like a hydra head

designin my rhymes like
i’ma try for 5 mics
tongue twisters on the mic be dyke-like

what im bout to do
you cant undo for years
dress the truth in pop music, let it run through your ears

whether you wana analyze it
or you wanna zone
i’m goin harder than ya whole crew on my own

CHORUS:

verb on my noun
verb verb on my noun
verb on my noun

verb on my noun
verb verb on my noun
verb on my noun til im world renowned

VERSE 2:

enablers, failures
claimin that they saviors
ho’s wit nose fulla iggy azalea

fuck tha turn up
that you thought youd earn a buck with
n fuck turnin up on some superficial fuck shit

commercia lshit will spike your inner ear fluid
still you revere, still you adhere to it
don’t let anybody tell you different
they supersede what you believe ta sell you widgets

the Chaos math the apocalypse tax
the fire footsteps across a gasoline path

oh some say its bullshit
minute long sample in front of vulnerable shit

disc jockeys jockin it / real mothafuckaz coppin it
tryna live my life like the “death of sardanopolus “

donny warned ya all but you didn’t listen
i feel yall music
but i feel no competition

hak puey
rattlesnake venom
lil mothafuckas still slashin at my tendons

i almost wish i could let ya’ll chill
but i’m goin for the kill
so ice skate up hill

gillie suited til we looted, still improvin
i keeps it movin like a drive by shootin

nothin to lose, you think i care about drama now
turn my shit up loud when you drive passed...