Текст песни Pyramid - Lupe Fiasco
Metabolize
on
the
scattered
snare
With
the
banana
pies
that
he
don't
like
Like
mosquito
bites
on
the
shins
or
ankles
In
the
end
it
bends
Let's
begin
and
pretend
it's
tranquil
Upset
stomach
on
the
boat
to
Lucerne
to
see
the
lion
Carved
in
the
wall
by
the
paw,
nigga
To
commemorate
the
soldier
dying
over
old
divines
Ergo
some
empire,
not
to
inch
but
the
entire
More
pills
mean
more
spills
bout
the
whore
house
with
the
extra
door
To
let
the
divorced
out
with
force
And
of
the
course
routes,
of
course
Cleopatra
speaking
patois
with
a
mouth
full
of
that
jerk
chicken
With
human
heads
for
the
curse
lifting
Onion
bread
with
the
shine
to
it
It's
up
and
fair
to
the
fine
stupid
But
she
ain't
dumb,
at
least
she
know
that
he
ain't
fun
And
neither's
Europe,
even
to
the
Middle
Eastern
tourist
With
all
the
spend
by
the
drum
[?]
How
many
millionaires
can
the
slums
hold?
Potentially
all
of
us,
this
whole
plane
and
all
the
bus
As
juggernauts
bust
through
a
wall
of
trust
You
strain
to
see
through
the
fog
of
dust
Like
spaghetti
for
the
meatballs
Of
[?]
immaculates
Head
over
heels
like
the
back
is
flip
Japanese
[?]
Love
labours,
get
her
backstage
like
the
judge
chambers
Everyone
under
the
sun
loves
hugs
from
a
young
stranger
Or
do
us,
or
fool
us
On
boats
in
the
Bay
of
Pigs
Runaways
way
with
the
wayward
kids
And
the
underpaid
slaves
from
Jamaican
gigs
Don't
shoe
us,
cause
we
ain't
Bush
We
ain't
huffs
don't
boo
us
cause
we
ain't
cooked
But
who
else
could
the
foo-foo
up
In
this
book
I
mean,
dumplings
with
dark
continents
Dumb
things
even
bar
common
sense
Sometimes,
sometimes,
sometimes
a
terpene
intertwines
with
the
turban
Rhymes
with
turbans
and
removes
the
minds
of
serpents
Detergents,
deterrents
and
permits,
to
build
a
hut
Twerk
team,
Operation
Build-a-Butt
Great
like
[?]
the
sleeve
As
a
king
breathes
through
a
silver
sieve
Jack
and
Jill
ain't
up
that
hill
enough
Filtering
lean
through
a
gold
grill
Theorize
things
from
[?]
hills
The
came
became
what
that
po'
kills
[?]
drills
in
that
hotel,
that'll
all
spill
Looking
at
space
from
a
submarine
Putting
that
bass
in
the
club
machine
Pushing
that
cake
till
that
mushin
ass
face
and
no
love
between
Fancy
ass
man
wearing
glove
and
rings
Flying
round
town
in
a
tub
of
wings
Found
out
how
to
make
love
to
fiends
She
mixing
that
[?]
with
the
drug
of
dreams
She
too
teenaged
to
have
a
drug
of
choice
But
she
fuck
with
that
Royce
like
she
love
Detroit
She
wrote

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