Cage Lyrics

Album: Unknown

(Down) The Left Hand Path

I was mislead, but once I found the way

 I convinced a group of 19 that they should drown today

 How I flipped it, clipped it after madness

 Then the dead came back and haunted the wrong address

 Cause they some stupid dead motherfuckers

 Just like all you bitches, all Weathermen fluffers

 And I get my shoes polished

 By the best open mic emcees paying Timbaland's homage

 In this day and age

 If your deck ain't playing Cage

 You probably disgruntled your Mrs. Funnel mayonnaise

 Or I ain't get the right palm

 My whole career been a upstream kayak through blood

 My tools love, seeing the face of opponents

 Seconds before they scull and wig savor the moment

 Light up a Jay, cast silence over Bob

 And hair stuck on the ground, shit I might as well rob the dead

 

 [Chorus]

 Hear this to the DJ then track the clubs

 Lift the cover of my CD then see what acid does

 Don't just stand there looking like some average thugs

 If there's a chick standing next to you then grab her jugs

 And if you ain't grabbin' the dough when they ass below

 Then you come back to the crib wearin' a mask and gloves

 Then you go back to the club stinkin' of ass and blood

 Joke some kid up diggin' pockets and snatch the drugs

 

 I a backwards education

 Studied some chick with broken navigation

 All this anti-Cage demonstratin'

 I don't pray to Satan

 I pray on agents makin'

 Shapeable minds

 Capable of firing traceable 9's

 But not at any kegs that make they snout's see

 I don't know what I wrote till' I spit and my mouth bleeds

 Look, more patterns to market

 Not even naming I'm standin' a walkin' target with shoppers that look at me

 awkward

 Granted I got a canon and my freakin' mouth's leakin'

 Cause my crew put more dust in the air than house keeping

 If you sleeping you're getting woke the fuck up

 Like you're parents while you bought this and smoke the fuck up

 With some much rhymin' in the NYC

 I carry 9 millimeter in the back of Taxi

 While I thought music prevented GOB servants

 And a cycle of brain wash entertainments to detergent

 

 [Chorus]

 

 If my thought patterns

 Brought palans to Walt Adams

 And spit violence and death, then kids start gaddin'

 Bloody ear canal

 Hold it down with a towel

 Cause by the time the verse hatch your stomach's hangin' out

 We got a verse on the loose, let's get these mouth zippers

 Buy six drinks a night then wake up and wear 'em as house slippers

 I'm just fuckin' with you bitch, don't get offended

 This ain't your average anti-pop record with a happy ending

 Go ask your block

 School body and bastard pops

 How the fuck you get your hands on acid drops

 Music television repellent for kids with extreme views

 Start torchin' labs to light the team's fuse

 I've gotten plottin', rotten ? been chewing

 I keep my hands in it with no tangible influence

 Whether a Clockwork Orange or a murderous night

 A book of what my pops did to Tony Burgess's wife

 

 [Chorus]