*psychedelic underground rap* a style born from an ecstatic mélange of rock, funk, jazz, hip-hop, created in the 90s by spinelli XYZee, a studio project of innovative musicians from berlin/mannheim and to date the undisputed avant-garde of the genre
Slime theory
check it
hey mr. Jack of all trades first check up your roster
i heard your lines always busy so i cant give a toast to ya
high school diploma lickety split how to get big
money swigger with a liquor aroma
highly stoned, plastered by the back of the green bastard
you mastered not to be alone with
big business fellowship, me i dont give a dime
about this late driving freestyle
its a slime ratata tat tat tat thats my nine milimeter
right at the tip of your forehead redneck, so check it
i pump up syllable by syllable like you pump up your pipe line criminal
it goes like it goes so wholl put your black gold down, wholl drop your last dime,
your dirty free hand policy is handed to your fingerlickin v.i.p.
so buzz off you cant touch this caus its a slime
a man with a funky mouth breeze
dribbling some of that wacky,wacky some of that wacky ass cheese
its a slime its sticky toadyisms toadies
me, dont wanna touch this slime theory
you drove your chevy to the levy but the chevy didnt make it
quick waxed the tax return just to fake it
asked the fool on the hill, bill, your wish is his command
hand to hand with uncle scam, masked the whole plan
big bam boozy. liberty stated, you dribble about grace cause you never made it
like some of those old noodles, greedy talking about your poodle with his big fat stiff weedy
so pass the dutchy from the left hand side
how does it feel when you got no food, poop scooper?
im dreamin about to smack a rhyme as fast as you scum out your slime
puff, puff, i'm blowing a gasket totally a basket
insane in the membrane your smile is a maskerade campain minimum,
last time to go minikin scheme with a mincin machine
chorus
hippedi hop hooray, im gonna spray you like a heavy weighter later on
so let me say it like this, pee materialism crook here is your guide book
for diggin out misties and mixed gall, gonna see you later mr. Masturbator
got a hunch that theres something wrong like me and mrs. Jones
we got a thing going on strong, tycoon
gonna blow your mind off like a taiphoon before you even brainstorm on
trickeries of trade, home-made just like pecan-pie plate
you know you state the fake up fought, like you ridicule the trial oh my god
bigger time your waiter thought your smarter than smart
watch the order book, not just a false look
just like in the boob tube, crook
your doin time soon so whats cookin blockhead now static
dont make a move cause if i groove youre dead
chorus