The Games You Play

When I was a kid

We used to play a game

I think you know the rules of our game

I have no time to play games

Sometimes I flow staccato

Strip you of vibrato

While you be acting macho

I try and switch it up

I see the games you play

And the traps you lay

Not fit to fall in

But I let you play them anyway

Sometimes I flow staccato

Strip you of vibrato

While you be acting macho

I try and switch it up

I see the games you play

And the traps you lay

Not fit to fall in

But I let you play them anyway

Sit, hear the clock tick

Watch the leaves on the plant flick

From the fan above, the room and I lit

Head trip, deliberate

Cease fighting the feeling and submit, flow with it

Like the path pre exists in hidden codes Masonic

They peep us like a web cam from the pyramid’s attic

Passed from hand to hand, let’s say coincidence

Or better yet, sixth sense

My instincts telling me to back up from that handshake that was intense

My instincts telling me to back up from that handshake that was intense

Brush it off and commence

Blame it on myself tripping

’Til the shit hits the fan

’Cause I steered from the plan

About face, and Billy Jean step into place

Throw my coat on the hook

Recap the time that I wasted

I know that spitting’s a bad habit

But I can’t help the taste

Still searching for the clues as it becomes a cold case

Procrastinator

’Til I think to remove the sheet from your face

Reveal the naysayer

Sometimes I flow staccato

Strip you of vibrato

While you be acting macho

I try and switch it up

I see the games you play

And the traps you lay

Not fit to fall in

But I let you play them anyway

Sometimes I flow staccato

Strip you of vibrato

While you be acting macho

I try and switch it up

I see the games you play

And the traps you lay

Not fit to fall in

But I let you play them anyway

How could you do this to me

Me, me, me, me

Don’t you ever get tired of thinking about your dope, greedy small self

Now you ain’t saying nada

Sweating, getting hotta

Change your tune, why botha

I’m bought to rip you up

Such a control freak

You mouth the word’s I speak

You question me, but you ain’t even listening

You’re world is make believe

But I keep pretending that i’m flexible

So you think your will’s got me bending

Putting all your energy into negativity

You holding over me while you steady scheming

But I’m making moves

While you’re sleeping and dreaming

Of being larger than life

You own hype you believing

Well now, you’ve been faking the funk since the beginning

Too many chapters in now to rewrite and fix the ending

Besides, you question what kind of message that be sending

That you’s a chump, punk butt, so what

I care not of the role you choose to play

By the way

I’m sure of a beginning and an end

But everything in between is all grey

All grey, all grey, all grey

Sometimes I flow staccato

Strip you of vibrato

While you be acting macho

I try and switch it up

I see the games you play

And the traps you lay

Not fit to fall in

But I let you play them anyway

Sometimes I flow staccato

Strip you of vibrato

While you be acting macho

I try and switch it up

I see the games you play

And the traps you lay

Not fit to fall in

But I let you play them anyway

I don't understand this game.