Herd Management lyrics

I got an occultic style that's been hidden for a while, to make the true-blue hip-hop fans smile. MrPaidHizDuez & he's 'bout to run the dial. Slip into my shoes, & you will not walk a mile. Every single time I pick a Mic up, I spit sh*t rough that'll pick a dyke up. I'm all about the notion & open to unity, well loved in the feminine-lesbian community. Royalty, son I'm born to a king, love to make love to a horn & a string. f*ck the world, 'cause human-resources owe me, I measure every girl by a woman named Sophie. That means wise, this a lyrical еxercise, masqueradе I'll rip off 'ya disguise...

I breathe life into the Mic with a stryfe & a stress, f*ck a mint I'm bent & it's liking my breath. Vampire rappers they bitin' to death, that's why I eat garlic & onions, they fightin' the death. I came to offer you solutions, but make me step out the truck with the Uzi, & I'm shootin'. Sharply, just call me Highlander, focused on my target, never hit a bystander. Money hungry to help the women & children, & I won't stop 'till I'm swimmin' in millions. Where these muthaf*ckas get the audacity questionin' my veritas & veracity? That means truth, all I do is educate the youth, spit it in a Mic, f*ck a booth...

Young girls are walkin' 'round half-naked, overstimulated & undereducated. Adolescents are eager to grab a c*ck, trained by pop culture, straight from Tavistock. You think it's a accident, you f*ckin' misfit, that KRS-ONE & Chuck D was blacklisted? I spit sh*t off tha top of the dome, hip-hop is my home, it's not about poppin' tha chrome. But I will if tha situation calls for it, young bulls don't wanna brawl, they ain't got the balls for it. But, they aim is lame, they should go to the range, to get they shoot on. They only lukewarm, that means cold in my book, the hands I hold'll make a muthaf*cka fold if they look...

Just call me poker face when I'm sittin' at tha table, poke 'ya face with an icepick, and then I rape you. With a beer-bottle, you just a queer-model, grazin' in the grass like sheep, and real docile. I walk the streets with a Cam to record 'ya from Japan to Gibraltar, taping Lambs to the Slaughter. Payday, it's only fools that'll doubt him, you will lose in the outcome, if you snooze on my album. I'm a muthaf*ckin' bonified prophet, you a muthaf*ckin' slave son, your owner lied stop it. If you qualified to call yourself my enemy, you just may be eligible for the penalty. And, that means grounds for murda, I won't hesitate to murk a clown, with a sound he never heard-a...
(Inhales)
My style's the cleanest, biters whiten they dentures, straight genius, I'm too bright for MENSA I could mumble on Mics, don't need a catchy tune, homeland security's gon come to get me soon. So, I'm assemblin' the bulk of my bubblegum, turn me into Incredible Hulk, & it's troublesome. Honest to god I'm only bendin' 'em to bubbledom, everyday I get a bunch of Benjamin's, & doubled 'em. (Hocks, then spits) It's true, I'm known to spit alot of mucus, tell 'ya somethin' good like Rufus, peace to my n*gga Lucas. Despite any kind of misunderstanding, you f*ck with my boy & you will get a brandin'. That means you get scorched with iron sh*t, they beggin' me to sell my farm, I'm not buyin' it...I love my cattle too much (inhales quickly) Mooooo