Bodies all around, start checkin' for the substance
The context is suspect, but I expect
When searchlight hits the brake
Headache, brake, fool with the cruise
That strictly metropolitan Pasco
I'll let you go again, the pen emulates
What's heard from the four wheels
And baby face ain't never seen, it's case of whip appeal
Seal with the hits and blow, cause I got hits to go
Fist to flow, Michelin, Michelin, under the mistletoe
I let my missile go, yo, hands get pound
When it comes down to slick wine
No respect in the deuce, cool, I'm pickin' mines
Furnished in New York, kiss that road
Diesel kiss for Vic like they was shootin' up an AIDS needle
So cling to your mom
Memories, calamities, a remedy
To recollect childhood, memory lane
Envision the picture, the frame
The beat that rumbles into the brain
Stains, grim gloom, every feeling
Up a villain, cap peeling, slashing the unwilling
Blastin' off, passin' off to the prevention
Locked in detention, wielding fiends
You don't start stretchin' to hit the hot spot
The storm hysterical, the groove that makes you thank God
For miracles, pinnacle, the peak and then you find
Surge, hittin' heads until the head hurts
My grain, motherfuckin' my grain
My grain, motherfuckin' my grain
My grain, motherfuckin' my grain
My grain, motherfuckin' my grain
My grain, motherfuckin' my grain
Rhythm rough, it's designed for the kind
That the depth of dumb implies
See here and say to wit that
And if you're not gonna hit that
Let me rip that rhythm
Hit the rhyme, we give em
We leave em and we'll ghost to the most
So the concrete is secure to endure
365 days of the unsure
Is the way the crumb comes poppin'
That's why these boots were made for stompin'
Conference little to none
When the riddle is someone who is right
But no beats gets paid
The answer is he gets sprayed by the kids
Who survived the playground of the steel
Who used the fat and funky as a sort of shield
Deal to the crew that rolls in battalion
If water was slaughtered I'd have to order by the gallon
Pesticides kill the pest
The rest are out the back like sweat
So dump out the project, out the building
Out your condo, out your crib, out your co-op
And let me rip the hip hop again
Oh *, Skeph Anselm, he gets pups again
Let out the grunt, let out the funk
From out your trunk, feel the bass
And let it pump, pump, pump
Migraine, motherfuckin' migraine
I ain't got no DJ
But that's alright
I ain't got no dancers
But that's alright
I ain't got no choir
But that's alright
All I got left is the mic
So strike up the van, man
As I command, man
Float up the damn, damn
On your way to flim-flam
Knick-knack, quick-whack
Laddie-whack, tip-a-dog a stick
Then hop off my dialect quick
To the throat, I choke
I need a coke cause I got something in my throat
Better let no one get no one up
Gas, dear, on the throttle
Catch a back of a forty bottle
Models can't roll with a tool
Till the parking beat up
Crowd's around two kids in a four' seat
A back attack punch from the boom
To give a brother room to breathe
Leave, and pull a thought out the sleeve
You're free to roam
As the beat hits the head until it gets home
Migraine, motherfuckin' migraine
Migraine, motherfuckin' migraine
Migraine, teleshucing migraine
Migraine, motherfuckin' migraine
Migraine, motherfuckin' migraine
Migraine,êthefuckin' migraine
Migraine,usalem
Blah long long wait
Motherfucking migraine, migraine, migraine, motherfucking migraine