Текст песни Make Your Mind Up - Souls of Mischief

A-plus:

Hieroglyphics is
Gonna twist a kid′s cerebellum
If he lives, then I tell 'im
I′ll leave his head swellin'
When tellin' fellas about the 5-6,
Live it′s me investigatin′ fly chick's privates
I got a plan, I got a plan, a strategy
Adam be mad. A G mad at me cuz I got a phatta salary
Actually, you will be cookin′ like bottom rhymin'
Never top, cuz you′ll never stop the atom bombin'
Hiroshima, Nagasaki
Don′t copy
The manuscript
Man, you slipped
You're sloppy
Joe Schmo, never no more
I'm clever and you′re
Never gonna score
Cuz I′m sure
I'm better and pure
Like cannibus
And if it′s possible
I'll drop a new
Line with the lyrics
Live with the spirit and soul
I got plenty in me
Eeny-meeny-miny-mo
Slo-Mo
Approach
With yo ho, yup,
Cuz I′m the man and you can read it in Genesis
A-D-A-M,
The A-P-L-U-S
One and the same,
Runnin' the game on fly chicks
Real tight,
So they feel right
With the 5-6
And it′s like that,
And that's how it is, G
The skins I cross
Get tossed like a frisbee
Search and find lines of life in my scripture
Screens make me seen
So the keen get the picture

Eruptions, and rustin'
When I′m thrustin′
Cuts men
Into microscopic particles
Molecules, atoms
Attack 'em, hack ′em
Never slow, never slack
I'm invincible, _________ flow is intense at fools
Who know not, flow not like this wizard
Ya play with it, riddle
Widdle a hole in ya dome
And pull out ya gizzard
Trachiotomy
I slaughtta the
Watery-weak
Ya slips, there′s a slobbly geek
Niggaz tweek
When I speak
They retreat,
Rethink what was spoken and then repeat
My feat
Of inhuman capabilities
Rape and pillage emcees
Then I kill emcees
Who have no style
I file niggaz down to the cuticle
Who can feel my foot prints
Soot gets kicked in your eye, beautiful
Blinding, Winding
Up and change-ups
Rearrange punks
When I drops, kerplunk!
Rip chunks
Out the mic
And then digest
Why test?
I'm cavin′ in your chest when I express
Myself
Extreme confusion
You think you're losin' your mind
Cuz my rhyme cuts holes like a nine

Tajai. Two syllables. Easy
With ease, we
Seize thee,
But emcees be
Cuz they come wacker than batman sound effects
I ground your text
But vertebrae wack. I pound your necks
Sally bone,
I be prone
To rip shit, likely
Believe it or not, believe it I got the cock- D
Cacophony
I cap the phonies, so there is no needs for me
Your attempts deceive us
And pimps know I be
Excel irate
And on that scale
That′s fail
The countenances
Of countless knit-wits
Who wish this
With mis hits
But this shit is equipped with
Homin′ devices that are precise as they get, kids
Target's stuck to foes who pose muchly
Fronts be phucked and
Punk nuts, why gets amongst thee
Punks, we often cross
When soft men
Is the image portrayed to them
Spinach is no saviour when
I pop eyes, all of the guys feel my brutish
Strength, and wimpies see haggard futures
Don′t tempt me
Shrimps we skewered on the bar-b
My foot has found wit in ya
Is there any dillemma?
Yo- hardly