lirik lagu wc-drs - trail of a g (the gunslinger) *incomplete*
verse 1:
to be frank those suits, suit you ballpark franks
a pack of ranked wolves, sewn in the tapestry
of sleep’s clothing, but not without the wool, outside their sleeves
marking suitors as if it’s backgammon, they won’t get
the upper hand of my 21 blackjack, suit in hand, i’ll check
’em, dictator their -sses, before they try to bluff me
they think this is chess, when i double backed their pieces
aligheri, said this somewhere in the cantos of 8-teen
i’m sure i ain’t buzzed from, a moonshine canteen
call it a fool’s babbling luck, like the 49-ers, gold plating
words, that are not plated to my white t–th, rest -ssured
they don’t have splints in them either, so don’t be a curious
george, my word is bond, i’m 100, no 5%-er, keeping it fo’ sure
flashing no grills, like a firebug showing their badge to the pub
the car i drive-in, has no glimmering rims or hydraulics
so there is no cause for ringing’ an alarm, or showboating
verse 2:
anyways i bet they don’t know i’m the 7th letter, not rakim
the alpha of the bet-aaaaaah! i’ll bet cha
all, y’all by a.l.l.a.h., the code’s still encrypting
which means by now to you dumbf-cks, i’m a mothaf-cking g
not some mafioso, skeezer, i’m a s&w (south-western)
hostile, smith & wessen, holster pistole toting, i’m so, so-cali
local sheriff, dirty deverone, the red-hot serrano chili pepper
capasicin seed, popping off don’t mistake me for a jalapeno, or
like a popper, i’ll jack that cheese , get black pepper on ’em jeans and will be, all up in greens, like allah been “o” (sauron) watching
the b-st-rd serpentine, in the garden of the eve-ning
though a thief with limbs, that’ll smoke you as quickly
quickdraw mcgraw, with my mangy, mangling mutt fisticuffs
in my fruit-rolled up wad of mary jane’s stink weeds
i am an old school, west coast mercenary, a merchant
of death itself, a wielding, sinner with a no mercy-airy
from the w to the c, you god d-mn varmints, racketeering
how can none y’all not see i’m a wc-emcee, hm…let’s see
if you can see the c in me in what i see, for instance
do you have vision that’s doubling, off this ww, well do (u)?
half, crescent moon, shaped sawn-off, i’m pointing at you
like a cue stick, that’s facing, the buccanator of your cheeks
doesn’t matter, because that by that time your conjunctiva aligns
i would’ve split, your watermelon in sections of 80 rinds
dura matter, dust everywhere forever, the pink sands of time
verse 3:
you all think this a motherf-cking game?
if i somehow arouse, s-xual s-d-stically
to the suspicion that you of cheesy, greedy geezers
are playing me as a monkey, like mario did to donkey
i’ll king kong your hindquarters, rip one of your arms
then beat you down with it, on your chest, like quan chi
b-tch n-ggas please, the real east is the chinese, you wu tang m-f-s slant the truth, with your fortune cookie rhyming, get that takeout the f-ck out of here, or you’ll get taken out
leopard spot, h-llo kitty p-ssies, matter of fact, y’all ain’t dawgs like us, rather a bunch of puppies, that will get chopped up
hot dachshunds and be as dog bowls, fed in china’s town
this is the state of the poppy seed, your mother-f-cked doggystyle
we’ll leave all of you snoozing and snooping, if you charlie browns sleeping around, bumping “going back to cali” on our grounds
that goes too for ice-t, cop k!lling flippant -ss on l&w, sv-
u2, i’ll go mano-e-mano, i’ll hold bono for a reward too
verse 4:
mess with me again as pontius did w/crucifixion of the nazarene
i shall demonstrate my expertise, as a scholar of your mores
respectfully by soaking, y’all deep with the great whites in the pacific, next to the queen mary, have ya exsanguinating in the
ocean, peaceful like a motionless pacifist, bleeding profusely
from the eyes like magdalene, when her son was hung
on the cross, a lesson in brute catholicism, y’all will be
hallucinating like you seen mary herself, wack sauce corpses
marinating within the trenches, marinara style in the marina
as i drink a drink, filled with karats, how’s that for a bl–dy mary?
rhetorical, peer to a snitch from afar, like a gargoyle
distant, i crept upon his verte-bricks, he sh-tted, as i asked him
“what you know about that e-40, kid? are you one of them?”
i don’t mean “bust out the eagle, 4-40” getting hype
by blasting rows of holes, in your rides because, cuz
we be g’s turning holy rolling, fake f-cks into swiss cheese
leaving y’all bodies resting in pieces, see those racks of meat?
for the spine-fins going wild, while intaking their juices?
that’s a watery afterlife filled with melatonin, your blood seeping? jaw’s root beef floatin’, wave’s cresting, reflected by moon shining
verse 5:
aight then, this is a klan-dike dry ice stickup, so pick it up
had them shivering with bradytachia, until they got blue b-lls
rescinded out the greenbacks, with your token change
s-x change, from ya manf-g, f-nny pack purses
screw your pleading, on verses and your duffel bag
i rehe-rs- my maneuvers, by re-hears-ing punks
carried on by carrying, every carrion in glad trash, sent to charon
dunked in the underworld slammer, yet i derick rose above those queers, stood atop the atmosphere, ended roman influence here
showcased them the discrepancy of what’ll happen, when
you continue to take me for and not disambiguate me as mobster
i’ll scalp your head casing, wide open with a custom gillette razor
to reenact the wild wild, and pour them into spaghetti western –
bowl, served your jack-sses with a side of red lobster
texted michael c. hall, to hit up dexter as my crime partners
call that the improvised westside connection, the gunslinger
verse 6:
as a deal breaker was almost sidetracked with the offering made
by one of those tailor made, made main man to not retaliate
so i re-tallied, aided and gave their godfather an one-way option
intermediated with the costs, pointed at his intercostal
gunshot, machine-slotted paid, clanking from point blank ranges
though i paused with a blank face, decided to discard the blanks
change the intensity of the situation, instead w/ intent to shank
only jesters make gestures like that, though on & on he pestered
“i’ll make you an offer, you cannot refuse”
ignored his suggestion as i chewed a now
replied with “..naw how about later?” (slug fires)
ordered them to give me the keys to their monopoly
before one tried to wage a settlement to appease, i said
“h-ll naw, you will not p-ss go to collect, $200,000, say cheese!” (shots ring)
let their mob boss befall, to bow down to my knees
not even when he smooched, my knuckled phalanges
verse 7:
ice cube to the touch, didn’t remorse, his outlined chalked
i drowsily cripped across boardwalk, with a d-o-g-g bored walk
laid down all the hencemen boar walkie talkies
chuckled, turned out it was an offer worth re-fusing
proceeded to lite all their deductibles, in oily pool fumes
rested in that copycat corleone’s room suite inn, of
your everyday arche-typical al palcinos, method actor stand-ins
while i sipped on a fresh cup of an alpine cappuccino
sniffed the area, as the brooding bloodhound, searching for clues
on my scooby doo sh-t’ to scour for you other puppies
in this dog eat dawgs residence, full of kitties
cats, i snuffed before they got too curious, i nipped then
i ripped, their sleepy hollowed, -ssh0l-s w/ slipped, headless tips
fired out their positions, of which i had them -ssume, like a cop
f-ck a pause, i kept on mauling with my metallic paws, no bull-
dogs go to heaven, these canine canaanites, too lowly for god
outro verse:
bake all of you with my heat, turn you meathead italians
family-style like sly, into meatb-lls, to top off the headstones
of the head, from which they fell, because by that time
they were seasoned, with the in-fernal fragrance of
rosemary leaves, packaged their organic, disintegrated carc-sses
leave and be left, in cases of cars, by garnishing with herbs
the interior of their coffins, dissed them by integrated provolone
to be carried away, in the riverman of styx”s motorboat
for they should know “death comes early, in the present”
since i proved-a-loner could do this all himself, alone so
don’t f-ck with me as a warning, i left alone the oregano on
the flattop, as i played the church organ, at the procession
of their funerals, reeling in every single relatives’ sympathies
a like a fish outta water, looking for someplace to back
to its school of guppies, urchins, i became a con artist, so
“now you know, if you don’t know”, i played them to a tune, a
grand piano’s minor keys, plucked their heartstrings in accordance
like a harp, or a chord, better yet an accordion, what sonorous swan song, deceptive cadence of scheme, machiavellian to the
utmost extreme, i unfortunately have to end all spectators
and you too, using a guillotine wire, separate the head from the
entire latin body, totally treat you all like mussolini
an og wolf, so i’m out and gone, screw capone
s/o to alcatraz, the nyc, dead posers home, r.i.p. homes
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