Marriage Tequila Diamonds

by Forty Psychic Frames

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Marriage Tequila Diamonds, or MTD, is the first full length album of Forty Psychic Frames. The beats of the twelve tracks were composed by numerous producers that DJ D knows. Xplicit said "we came up from Raleigh and my man Dizzump brought the beats with him because he thought the Frames needed them. Psychic Squad represent!"


released May 20, 2004

Wyatt Furtherton, DJ Dizzump, Scurvy D, Xplicit, Forrest Jameson, Anthony Jackson


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Forty Psychic Frames North Carolina

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Track Name: Gangstaish
Up in the cellar stairs ghosts chill in eternal chairs,
break dancing to the beats by Ol' Dr. McSnare.
We heard the chains rattling, it sounds kind of like my Gatling,
and now I'm just chatting with the ghost of Pimp Tap Tapping,
but look at me, we are just three plus two and Drew if you count Daniel and Ste-Steve.
Pimp masters supreme, Asian girls jeans, cream cream, Hot Dave and Mr. P

Blazed so much I can't stop blinking,
forgot my name so I better start thinking.
Thoughts so cold they make you shiver,
knife to the gut removes your liver.
Piss on your brain, throw it in a river.
Dropping kids at the pool, yes, you'll discover.
More tokes from the bong, so I'll recover.
DJ D off the mic with a flash of the finger.

Scurvy D:
How many times have I hit this weed?
My head spinning round like its a dream.
gotta break out, and feed my need
for fly ass shorties and paper green.
We ride strong, all day long
and you won't see us 'till the bud is gone.
Like gold pressed latinum we're here to stay,
so its best to just get out of our way.

My name Is C.H., but they call me Xplicit.
I'll be busting rhymes that other nias couldn't compete with.
I'll have everybody guess what state I'm in.
I'm into making records that spin like rims.
Uh, I hope you heard, I be choosy with my words.
Throwing pennies at all the has-beens begging on the curb.
There was Forrest, in a Taurus.
He pulled before us, riding his brakes, I ate a snack cake.
On the way.

DJ Dizzump and Xplicit now rapping with Psychic Frames.
We be running up and busting up, blasting all through your game.
We be snatching all your fans and robbing your fame.
Till suddenly nobody even knows your fucking name.
Got Xplicit in the Teg hotboxing it up.
DJ Dizzump Counterstriking man he's sniping shit up.
Pass the Ciclon over here, pour it in my cup.
Cause I'm driving to your momma's house to ask her whats up.

Egyptians lock up your daughters
or you be giving interviews on that show with Barbara Walters
My ninja be crazy
Fuck the hos in the pyramids
Get ready
And everywhere he go he be getting in to the pussy
Nothing no more
Drive-bys get old you know?
I'll break your fucking back with a bat you fucking ho
John Ritter
Don't be a bitch-ass quitter
Eight Simple Rules needs you like i need your sexy sister
Track Name: Frames of Fury
DJ Dizzump:
Dropping kids; smoke grass; kicking that flavor.
Kick coming at you like a supernova.
Kick putting down beyond your cover.
Angels busting in like a four inch sofa.
Prophet is my tag; killing fools is my bag.
Mother fuckers running like a seafood schwag.
Slice through; guts strew; biscuit yep.
Roundhouse coming like a turbo jet.
Kinetic shield keeping me from harm,
all your momma's chickens are in the barn.
‘Bout to set a fire and blaze that shit.
Hook left; roll right; now suck that dick.
Put up; left out; punching them revers.
Drama coming at you like old Ben Seavers.
Beyond dumping beats, I dump this fever,
all alone; by myself; on this river.
Saw that vision that made me shiver
made me take the path of least pork liver.
Jumping shit; kung fu kick; nuts hiss; holy shit
had that martial arts by the dick.
Now i'm the master and you be the student.
Fuck this; i'm out; eat a bullet bitch.

Oh Daniel San, made in Taiwan.
Come on Jackie Chan. do what you can
bust that shit.
Round house, jump kick
throwing fists, harukan.
Back back high punch,
Scorpion throw that arrow.
Pull him back, upper cut,
now what? What you got?
Johnny Cage is enraged,
sunglasses broke
Kano tokes,
Liu Kang busts in.
Flying kick wicky wick,
take it out the oven,
that shit be done bitch.

So I was watching it all on channel 39
Do you watch Kung Fu? Oh yeah all the time!
Not Jet Li or that new school shit
My favorite kicks are on the Fury of Fists
I give up with these new techniques
using wires now instead of their feets
What about those days with a punch and a kick?
No bullshit graphics or that Turtle ass shit.
Lee had it right ‘cause that shit was tough
koo pow kaw he will fuck you up!
Drop your fist now through a stack of bricks
Do for the love, not just for the chicks

Once I start to get drunk, I tear your frame up.
Long stick, jump kick, one inch punch.
Saint here, and I smoked your crew.
Beat up every one of you and your leader too.
Think you know Wang Chung like Wong Fei-hung?
Step off bitch, your ass better run.
Cause I'm busting in with a right and a left,
and the ugly ass mother fucker? He be next.
Crickity-crack-crack-crack bitch crack-cracka-lack!
You've just been slapped, fool. Smiggity smack!
Best be giving up now, ‘cause your ass is grass.
I just tapped up on your grill with the sassafras stick
Twist and flip and kick while I sip this
Rummin's more yumming while I'm drumming on your lip.
Now I got to meditate, while houses renovate.
I be trading spaces, trading laces off your hockey skate.
As I said before, you can find me in the rafters.
And I'm rapping, tapping, you gagging before your neck be snapping.
Is you blabbing? Last words is what you will be having
Worry no more, I’ll tell your family how it happened.
Track Name: Lies as Ammunition
I'm the king of this land and I'll kick your fucking kickstand
Fall to the ground. Now your bike is fucking mine, man.
Peddle to the sand, watch the girls as they tan.
Anthony be on the lot with the rest of the band.
He was showing off his G-Ride to a random hottie
in a thong, he was giving her some glasses of Bacardi
She got tipsy and was wooed by Ant's charms.
In fact, it wasn't long until she rode off in his car.
Me and the rest of the 40PF Crew.
Hung out in the parking lot, not knowing what to do.
DJ D started thumping some beats.
So we pumped that shit up loud and started rapping on the streets.
Not two minutes in, a crowd gathered around.
They was chilling, feeling on that 40PF sound.
Soon, they realized that Jay-Z is pretty lame.
They were shouting, cheering, screaming our name.

Got back now from Myrtle Beach,
trick on my Johnson like a fucking leech.
I be in my caddy for fucking days,
my ass woke up in a cloud of haze.
Blazed last week with Scurvy D,
that gangsta be set on the fucking green
Toke, toke, toke,
Thump, my system spoke.
Dissing my shits!?
Did you know that body's float?!

Well it's true that I'm married to a rich girl, a widowed girl.
Her husband died in 'Nam so now I'm her whole world
I can't read the license plate on Dizzump's bike
‘cause all his bitches asses were blocking all my sight
and I'm going to move just down to Myrtle Beach
a shitty beach house and a stack of pancakes on a plate
We buy lies as ammunition, break glass eyes with perdition
smash the kick drum, but stop, and begin the intervention
"My name is Wyatt" and I'm addicted to certain memories.
Close your eyes, I can't breathe, just ignore our failed recovery
Winner of the *****-Nobel Physics award.
You've won five or so before, you win a bucket of Coors
These cars are yours not only just for your patience
Here's six more.
Chili Davis for Griffey '94?

DJ Dizzump:
Crack ninja coming at you bitches.
Just off the rock, scratching them itches.
Going to fucking roll around tonight.
Silent, stealthy and hidden from sight.
Clipping your wings, making trouble with flight.
You’re the type of fucker who thinks he's right.
Laughing and mocking, to gain you height,
but I’m not the one to, bark first, then bite.
You think we care, you think we lay low,
but the anger builds, ensuing violence grows.
No thanks for the judgement, no thanks for the "care?"
No thanks for the words, only pity from my stare.
What the fuck is that? Like dust in the air.
Stick to your own, evil worries if you dare.
When the time comes, all your sins will be bare.
it’s my life to live fucking ending right there.
Track Name: Elite
Wyatt: It is wicked.
Forrest: Forty PF.
Scurvy D: I'm on watch out.
Forrest: Forty.
Scurvy D: Forty PF y'all. It's another track.
Wyatt: Another track.
Forrest: Uh.
Anthony: Ramsah what you want baby skank?
Wyatt: Another track. Another track.

Scurvy D:
Who's House? (Who's House?!)
That's right it's Scurvy D's
It ain't easy being so elite.
Grand master ox body technique
jokes feel easy to the beat.
(bom bom bom)
Marijuana is a cash crop now
Tripping out shrooms make you go buck wild
Crazy bitches costly like Italian tile.
More than a Puppet's better than 8 Mile.
Die Karl!
Fuzz holding me back
Grab Ant
Go kak kak kak kak kak!
Weed making me feel relaxed
Spin down the rims, just dropped another track.

I'm just going to fuck this shit up
So skip this track if you want typical stuff
Like the Gettysburg Address
we will instill you with this mess
Revolting like youth and my boy Nick Twisp
Overuse my similes
help make up realities
to create certain fallacies
to make certain salaries
we're under-valued like the dollar
controversial like the collar
Fambrough always holla
from his low ride Impala

And this is how we mother fuckers roll.
Fuck the toll.
And if you can
find Uncle Sam and shoot him in the head.
Bboycodes and fucking Gamepros.
EGM was better.
Trickboys bitch is still wetter.
I know straight edge is a bitch.
One Hundred proof shit
still sitting on your desk.
and yo
Holla back now
Phil's shits still loud.
Cock get the fuck out.

You'll have to roam, listen to dial tones
Got too many ladies calling on our cell phones
Got the paper green to be tossing out the loans
House fifty times bigger than the home on Home Alone.
True to your roots no leets, loots, or woots
Rings better than dings, aw shit I'm the king
All our fans are teens, I'm Lord of the Blings
Dissing Beans, while I'm stealing the scene.
Sound the alarm, toss me my sidearm
Pirates of the sky stealing planes off the tarmac.
And kak kak kak it's a fucking Shaq attack.
Racks and gats, packs, coke and jack.

Anthony: That's my code with you.
Forrest: Whats up?
Scurvy D: Holla back now.
Wyatt: Mix the coke and jack.
Anthony: Cocaine.
Forrest: Bitches.
Scurvy D: Bitches.
Anthony: Cocaine.
Wyatt: Mix the Coke with Jack.
Anthony: Sniff sniff cocaine.
Wyatt: Coke with crack. Coke with Jack.
Track Name: Haunted Hell
Halloween night, 2 thousand and three.
Whole crew vanished, it was Wyatt and Me.
We was all by ourselves in this haunted house.
Nothing was stirring, not even a mouse.

We wandered round the crypt to find Scurvy D.
But He and Anthony were nowhere to be seen.
We looked for the Dizzump and Xplicit.
But hell...that shit was dark, it won't even lit.

We walked around the house and couldn't find no-one.
I could tell by Wyatt, that this shit was not fun.
We searched for Poody, but of him no sign.
Then the clock struck 12:00, it was freaky ghost time.

Oh my god
it was a ghost we saw
only this one was naked
and she looked like Goldie Hawn
like the cover of black beauty magazine
my boy Forrest and I were getting nervous like crazy

we danced for a while
and she decided to leave
and we kept on walking towards the light we see
only to find
it was a ghostly trick
we fell into a hole of hellish shit

Like seeing blood on the walls
from demons in the halls
of pagan castration embedded with Satan’s balls

I am so very scared
Just get me out of here
Where's the PF team
I think I'm dying of the fear


Well yeah it was scary, but it wasn't that bad.
This was the closest encounter with ghosts I've ever had.
Like that windy night up on Helen's bridge.
Scurvy D and me, except I was asking about her kids.
But shit! There was ghosts popping out the walls!
Zombie threw a baseball and hit Wyatt's balls!
Wy Man went down to the floor
I drew out my sword and through that bitch I tore.
Parry, thrust, jump kick to the lip.
Land that shit, turn round, break it's hip.
Face another zombie, blade be causing some strife.
Draw out my knife, and put an end to it's unlife.
Pulling Street Fighter moves, shri-uken and haduken.
I be killing them zombies much faster than you can.
I was just about to kick it, bust it's grill up.
But then Wyatt...shit he stood up.

I'm giving classroom discussions
on keyboard concussions
to these zombie mother fuckers who better know who their fucking with
now if they want fresh meat
they won't take it from me
because I'm trained in ass kicking and I'm make them see
I'm not here
to stir up some shit
you are undead and that's what I'm trying to respect
I just want out
and I wanna go to bed
just not forever like you the undead
So I run real fast
like taking steroids that last
Forrest play catch up cause he smoke to much grass
Past the haunted mirrors
and the ghostly paintings
I almost have a heart attack
and I almost start fainting...


We glanced up ahead, shit what was that light?
It flashed in the distance, a beacon from the night.
Me and Wyatt start to sprint, run as fast as we can.
Increase the distance between us and zombie clan.
The ghosts began to howl, the ghouls began to moan
But our attention to that shit we did not loan.
Wait, what is that that we're heading towards?
Oh hell yeah, Wyatt...the back door.

Trip and flip over ghostses grip
we make to the door but we had to fight for it
slam and cram ghosts legs and hands
behind the oak door that we politely slammed
out of the house we took a deep breath
we thought we saw the gang smoking up some shit
but when they turned around
it was then we seed
that they were not who they were
they were ZOMBIES

Track Name: Hollow Tip
I just took a shot, my brain is blocked.
Bacardi's down, now I can't even talk.
I can't even rap, I can't even rhyme.
I'd down another glass if I had the fucking time.
But, the thing is, I got to rock tonight.
Shit, I’m even buzzing and I'm doing alright.
Forty Psychic Frames, we a natural disaster.
Pump our tracks through your walkman it'll make you run faster.
Our lyrics will tear you up limb from limb,
cram your body in a box, send it back to Camp Jim.
Shut your trap, prissy bitch get back to cheerleading,
‘Cause crossing rhymes with 40PF will get you beaten.
Quick Dissolve Malox, it's a brand new antacid.
It'll nullify heartburn before you even have it.
What was that? Hell yeah, bitch we sold out.
Face it, every single artist would take that route.
That's why you have rappers that rap about shoes.
Spinning rims, bling bling, and expensive booze.
This rap game's a lot like playing Monopoly,
but you’ll loose every game when you play against me.
I'll be the battleship or the fucking car;
You get the puppy or the thimble, retard.
I'm going to be the banker too and here's a tip:
Pass go, collect a dollar, and a punch in the lip.

AJ here up for another.
Killer pimp-thug that is undercover.
One mother fucker be dead tonight;
You know the street, man, you know that’s life.
We cross paths at 84th and king
Hollow tip bullets be my bling-ah bling-ah
Explosions be thought as obscene.
Hey it be almost be the same exact thing.
This kind of shit makes you wonder why
your fucking ass is still alive.
Now hop back in my Cadillac,
Shaq attack, bitch watch your back.
Like Kazcinski I’ll deliver you a gift,
a gift that'll blow your mind to shit.
Now it’s a fact your ass be gone,
and I'll do that bitch all night long

Scurvy D:
Heaven's back y’all, what’s going on y’all?
Talk slow with a southern draw.
Spinning rims with my homeboy Slim
Shady like a lady who don't come to win.
Wings going to win the cup again,
bring it back home with Yzerman.
Silly Christians don't like to sin,
but when you do life begins.

One one one one one
St. Ives paves the way,
I got a two pair set for free at the Pick-n-Pay
Twin Tone can't remaster like Phil Foys
I call YKR4 aka The Remix Boy
Take these pills three times a day
if you get fertilized no more bay bay bay
or take these two the day after next
then it will pop out like a fucking Sunkist
I’m on Brazilian defense when I'm with a Venezuelan girl,
By move 19 the game is hard for sure,
and dutch hard stone has some useful offense.
Please wipe your mouth, you've got my juice on your lips!
Engaged in the systematic disassembly of whites
this neighborhood is pale and I can't get rid of these love bites,
Track Name: Dissipated
I'm ‘bout to tear this up, where's the stuff? Pack it up.
You should be fearing us, haters suck, show us love.
There be some things that you fuckers should be wary of
Psychic bullets ripping through you, we be sniping from above.
Asthma got your lungs? Dog, come on in yo,
glad your here, we're ‘bout to hotbox the studio.
Here's a healthy dose of those psychic flows
Sit back, enjoy the show.
Wyatt and Ant they be stomping on your crew.
Xplicit, DJ Dizzump, they be there too.
Me, Scurvy D, Poody, y’all lose.
Violent incident, now you on the evening news.
Aww shit yo, pass me that hemp.
Damn, all of y’all know that shit be the demps.
My boys better hold me back or I'm about to flip out,
and leave you standing there with a busted lip.

Yo its DJ D; I’m back on the mic.
Bitches stop drooling; and get out of my sight.
Back at 220 for the fucking night.
PF Crew, no Phillip in sight.
The hip, the hop, the hibbit, to the hibbit
to the hip hip hopping
and we finally stopped rocking
to that crossroads fucking loud in my ear,
I'm trying to get some fucking sleep in here.
We left the body rotting, no more favors to be spotting,
so you faggots best be hopping, ‘bout to start a fucking problem.
EMS is who I’ll be calling
Once I’m striking with the fucking lightning.
But on a lighter note I’m ‘bout to tell you something though,
when we roll, we fucking roll with fighters yo.
So you better run and tell your fucking crack ho's
40 Frames is coming with the fucking killer flows.

They told me I was found under a magazine.
"Little Orphan Wyatt." I'm high on Thorazine.
My brain stem changes frequently, but secretly,
I see Scurvy D in a Dream
trying to tell me, "Life ain't easy."
We see a hundred ghosts a day,
from R-Town to Santa Fe,
but my ghosts don't stay they're memories I kill today
with a pill, a powder a naked girl in a shower.
you'll spend a megawatt hour

This is beat like Rodney King.
Over seas while Fed Ex fucking brings my arsenal.
I'll take your country over,
form the crypts, buy a phat Land Rover.
Tear up the terrain, nigga I'm insane.
Fucking in the sky with Lois Lane.
Superman I beat you like Willis.
Holla up bitches, can you fucking feel us?!

Sonic itch, yous a snitch,
Mailing the child support check,
and twelve pounds of weed with past due postage.
‘Cause I just don’t give an ish, your making my wish come true,
I'll cut you till your blue.
Ryan Surewood slaps a porno itch,
Making them switch to the dick that does the trick.
Choosey and Fatback and Segrems dressing,
With your wife I be nesting,
Indecent behavior.
Took a lick of her, that bite I had to savor.
Dont waver,
Form the words previously stated.
Yo shit be dissipated!
Track Name: True To Life
Frustration,casket facing.
Next time it be you I be blazing.
Zebra striped panties wipe off my semen.
Keep dreaming.
Next time we'll be double teaming.
Makin plans while 40PF roam these lands,
Robbing Bill Gates and illegitimate contraband.
Show no mercy, take no slaves,
‘Cause one hit from the 40PF could drive your ass insane.
Low carb like Jared,
Sucking dick so long it’ll turn your face red,
Judge Dredd, but instead you go out trying to be like us,
Get the drugs you crave, but shit won’t ever be the same,
‘cause when it’s all said and done,
Yo momma be staring at your grave, another debt paid in your name.

I walk in with a paper bag over my head doing the Frug
The Carlton, and The Breakdance of the Fucking Dead.
I try to get all my stuff on twelve inches,
‘cause I kind of like the pops and the clicks.
180 gram.
Sprinkle cinnamon into your hand,
like a Teddy Graham we'd love to bite the head off The fucking Man.
Now my pipes are corrosive and these words are less explosive.
Leave the water on CASL Ramis propulsive.

Yo we're just fucking around,
don't turn that frown, upside down.
Be back on without a fucking doubt,
like vampires, who suck the life out.
Nizzity my number one G.
Quality, quantity, fuck it lets smoke weed.
Roll with the punches a T-K-O
Knife cutting shit up,
I fucking told you so!

Through the front door, "Sup whore" like Emirates.
Make it quick, get my shit, while I suck your momma's tit.
Wit? You ain't got a lick of it.
Bouncing ‘round, sipping Crys, while you in the corner sipping dick.
What? You have to move ‘cause we're coming on through.
Forty Psychic to the Frames, that's our name. Who are you?
Your sales be a shame, blame our game,
write a new shitty track, Shaq attack, man we always strike true.
Step back, 'for I break yo back,'for I bust a cap, make it go kak kak.
Don't slack, Jack if you be wanting some of these stacks of bills,
for thrills, just chill, you will never be the mack.
Crack whore, ignore, all your words are a bore
Tore straight through your door, and check you into the boards.
Better polish up on your meager rhyme lore.
'For we snatch all your fanbase and boot you out the record store.

Scurvy D:
It’s so easy to spark controversy,
supposedly words are meek.
Clouds break leave pain in their wake,
like quakes we shake foundations of fate.
By hooks on crooks with shady looks,
snatching stashes with passion,
bloody waves crashing
Dizzump hit the mountain scracthing.
Keep eyes out for coming attractions.
Pop visions of Shaolin princes,
hit obscure words to form hidden disses.
Unholy missives and eternal prisons.
World wastes away, cause Bush is slipping.

DJ Dizzump:
Uh oh I’m coming through again.
Rollin, strolling with my gansta friends.
Whatever I do, I play to win,
so get out my face with your bitch ass grin.
I’m up in smoke, we six men put it up we about to sin.
Christians, Catholics bitch all you can.
Satan's plate no coincidence.
Lightning strikes with my incident,
but grunts and groans is all I hear.
How’s this our fucking cross to bear?
Got the mountain top by the hand,
staring directly at the promise land.
Got the rope in the other hand,
to start pulling up The Frames again.
So I’ll leave you with this my friends:
true to life is how it’s always been.
Track Name: Poised to Kill
I think it's bout that time I got to
reap some cash from this jolly green stash,
Then I'll slash and lash all those rednecks down in Nashville.
Bling will flash, and give them all a heat rash.
Dog watch out for my Ingrams or they might go
In your face, awww what a disgrace.
Wife puts out the nice plates when I go to your place.
Take her out when you're away to let her watch me street race.
Then to the lingerie place And wrap her all up nice in lace.
AHH! Don't stop, girl it's time to drop
In the club with your skirt & little blouse on top.
Girl you're dancing mighty close, that's not my Glock it's my cock
Then we'll hide away, and on those boots we'll

Dear Mr. McNearny,
I read his diary
It says, “I’m a lady that dresses like Bill Murray.”
Have you ever lived on Bibbington?
Never goes a night you don't hear a gun.
Well this is repetitive, I slur like sedative,
Dull my pain burn holes in my brain
Dear E. Smith,
I liked your first four,
sometimes I catch myself wishing for five more,
but you’re dead.
I’m going to kill myself tomorrow,
don't worry about my sorrow
It's not mine to borrow.
Rod Laver 74 15 - love score
But to the US open sic transit gloria
Jesus Vibe in here
D chord is playing here
Sonny's Guide to Gambling is the bestseller in here

Yo there's a fella, yo there's a Chet.
Bust out the BB&T, where you guys be at?
On the way get the Raleigh crew,
Oh and if you can get JC too!
Hollywood chrome and Roosevelt velvet.
Drive-bys get the g ride
just for the hell of it.
PO Box number 5869,
hide in sight of my sight tonight.
P hook me up with a hot pocket please.
Noise takes the weight off your boombox bass.
Dawn why you go and try to turn that set down low?
No one wants to ever hear The fucking Crossroads.

Scurvy D:
Once again, solitudes your only friend,
in the end, light bends, and you realize your dead.
Tread lightly ‘cause you tread on your dreams.
I'm ripping at the seams of your self esteem.
Your mouth spews junk and your brains all shrunk
so sit back, and put up with this lyrical dunk
in your grill, no frills, eerily all too real.
Assassins on your last step, poised to kill.
Track Name: Predicated Abuse
We write within context of things vital and complex
We bleed water and windex in the back of cramped Civics
All my novels are a masterpiece, my penitentiary mysteries,
sell out over seas in three different countries.
We ride over mountains and all the lakes have unfrozen.
My last kidney drowned in a lake of alcoholic potion.
Down to four
only two more lines
I must make my peace before I can say goodbye.

Ish I’m back now, making punk itches want to crack now,
Shot down, PF lay the smack down.
Busting bullets in your ass while I’m rolling up grass.
Showing the brass, people calling for the dispatch.
Bitch slap, blondes dancing on my lap.
Scurvy D and Anthony, guilty?
Not me!
Wy-man go to the club and tell your insiders,
that we’re eating milk and cereal like VT's Finest.
Overload it to provide offensive pressure, arrest her,
Then take her home and try to undress her.
Be choosey with your words, don’t say ish absurd,
I fired two bullets, that’s all his family heard.
Don’t step to me, I hope you learn,
Getting busted with gats is what that itch deserved.

I got a gun inside a briefcase, just in case,
I blow off your fucking face.
Power Gloves busting, they’re keeping me strong.
Don't return the money? I’ll drop you like King Kong.
Throwing with the ho’s, P-I-M-P.
Get money by delivering to eighth street.
Retreat to the rock, shut your mouth off,
all you do is talk like old ho’s Pepa and Salt.
In the fridge is something delicious.
Drink too much, you’ll be sleeping with the fishes.
Cracked up is you? Need another hit?
Don't like the spliffs bitch?
You’re an addict!

Scurvy D:
Simple construction to cloud man's judgement.
God's not real false forward motion.
So instead we got pregnant mothers overdosing.
Stupid politicians with bigoted commotion.
Back up because you’re hitting my nerve,
Vito calling the cops, you’re about to get served.
Bam hitting his head till his vision blurs.
Pop cultures dropping the learning curve.
Can't believe how low things got,
rich get tax breaks, but can't smoke pot.
Wallow away in society's rot.
Protect my own with my loaded glock.

Step back here comes a PF attack.
These lyrics that be tearing up your frame dog and that's a fact.
You want to match, yo, but you ain't even got the knack,
not when Xplicit and DJ D are rapping on this track.
Right, goodnight,
Get your mom to tuck you in the bed and turn out the light.
I'll be alright when you get out my sight,
before I rear back and smack you in the face dog with all my might.
Get out my way man, what you want to say?
Shut your posse up, you just may get beaten up the psychic way.
DJ D's about to take out a J,
Blaze it up, grab your face, and use it as an ashtray.

DJ Dizzump:
Mafia is coming, but we're called The Frames.
Bitches running and screaming our names.
If life’s a horse, I got that fucker by the reins.
Kak kak kak is what brings the pain.
When we roll, we roll with Wayne.
So step back before you lose this game.
Gun blast and I hit where I aim.
No conscious when I extinguish your flame.
Track Name: 220 Headies
P-P-P-Pabst on the tap, yo, I drink it while I rap.
Anthony about to, about to pop a cap.
Slap a slap, I don't even give a crap.
Yo, I'm on the Internet and I'm about to get a map,
to your fan's shack, so that I'll convert them back,
to this PF shit, we got the rhymes all up in stacks.
Racks and racks of these sick bong packs,
Headies, readies, drop top, pass it back.
Do you really think you'll keep up with my crew?
All those haters in the chatrooms, fuck you!
You be sitting there, freestyling, thinking you cool,
put away the notepad, you fucking wrote them, you tool.

You fuck me like I'm gay because I've got a dick,
Am I a prick?
I always try to fuck like the human Rabbit.
I'm going to Brewery to catch the Stars
Broken Social Scene, March 21
Saves the Day and Fire T and Grandaddy
Tell Jimmytron please
I'm going to Discovery Place with my niece.

Climatique Man, Master cylinder can,
NGL on the field, Carolina fucking chill
Carl Winslow, slow the fuck down
Eddie with the Teddy Ruxbin smile
How do you roll with the Ruff Rider crew?
Showing your shits down Patton Avenue.
You can take the bait and hook,
another number in my fucking black book.
Anthony play you like a mother fucking fiddle
Scurvy D feeling bass provided by Mendell
William Hung’s got to fight,
and I’ll be out like a goddamn Lite Brite.

Scurvy D:
Creating Images on the edges of your consciences,
through our flows you will be blessed.
Shattered dreams make the world obscene,
turning princes into paupers, making kings into fiends.
Grey skies, no light, I’ll fight.
Try hard and make things right.
World’s fucked going to end tonight.
We created a world of strife!

*Xplicit Freestyle*

*DJ Dizzump Freestyle*

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