Tilt

Tilt

Your frame ain't built for this angle

Lateral battle moves, we strike on command

With this mic in hand we ignite like c4

And see through your paper this schemes

[High Priest]

It's about to get more ugly than the faces of broken homes

With no china, bitter reminder, finder

Figuratively speaking i'm like flex

Index on the next tunnel banger

Unbending a hanger to strangle or stab men in the abdomen

Grab my head to stop the shakes

Bake crates and take tapes to create new webs

But for the love of the mic there is nothing

That's what a rapper thinks

What happened to being passionate about life

Your spider scence is tingling

Fingering new singles to select hi, i electrify microbes

Incite crowds like a knife tossed off the top of the twin towers

Wonder twin powers deactivate

Decapitate these apes and finally make them understand

Tilt

Your frame ain't built for this angle

Lateral battle moves, we strike on command

With this mic in hand we ignite like c4

And see through your paper this schemes

[Beans]

Stupendous shuffleboard shifting

Indescribable like inkblot

Never the frail perils provokes popular plague perish

Poverty jet set

Empty bottle figurine bodies built for speed

Bulimic cheerleader night ladies

Who resemble underweight premature crack babies

Circle like sharks undressed in the surf for cheap thrills

But any upper class numbskull like coke on the head of your cock

Shoot the horse to make glue, send you on the road to glory

Kick crash

Cast feet are dead, banished with bandwidth

Banging heads mc's on empty

Embrace my warm reception like blowing the nose with sandpaper

Any time after now

My always tight as a tube top ignition

Remains stable like staples as sheets to the bed

Father of your abortion

No need for memories with a dictators generocity

Diction of velocity chokes the respirator

[M. Sayyid]

Next shit slaps and spit out cats

Into the ring off the canvas

Into the press with the cameras

Work it out like seventeen hammers

Sayyid last seen with skeletons on scanners

Room sixteen, the tropicana

Where the lovin' is good and my focus is dopest

So boast this concussion and comatoses

Better be ready to battle before i ghost kids

Overdosage of volts, quote quote

My shit splashed liquied nasty like a cyst out of the wrist

Unquote, dope like a belt, vein, and a fist

Slip your disk, break your back and put it back back to the shack

In the back of the back of the back where i laugh with a hat

Open a latch, spark a match, and walk onto the track

Marlboro red you

Change myself into chuch scarborough and walk out of the bedroom

Unwebbable bisymmetric centrifugal nonshiftable mineral pivotable

Wild east nile, up close into your nose hole i roll

Lop-sided in a vial, slide into the disease file

With piles of styles in crates

Smash your face into the shape of new york state

Tilt

Your frame ain't built for this angle

Lateral battle moves, we strike on command

With this mic in hand we ignite like c4

And see through your paper this schemes