YORKO
Tendencies
The melody’s been making me want to commit felonies
But it ain’t easy being enemies with the feds so please
Cut me some slack and roll my joints with the back strapped
Like me when I’m bombing down in Baghdad equipped with a fat cap

Throwin’ up everywhere cause I’m sick from the liqour
Ironlak’s running dry but I’m sure I still got a pack of stickers
Hands high proceed to stick em’ up like it’s wanted posters
I’m still finding my sanity, so prevent me from reaching the holster

Physically abled but I’m the most mentally unstable
Horse in this stable and I got more hees than I got hoes on the table
Smoke more than a Mustang uses gas, all this grass in my stash that I can burn
Produce lotta ash that Hitler can’t fill this in his urn

Use the devil’s fork as a clip when the roaches scorches my lips
My throat dry from the cottonmouth, cos these snakes all around me spit
Medusa got me seduced, I’m deduced to a cold stone
I’m concrete, steppin' on cracks, cos fuck rocks, I’ll stick to the bowls

I ain’t need no VVS, I got me a menace tape on VHS
Watch Kareem do his bs blunts down the Brooklyn banks
Landing Ghetto Birds like rocket launchers crashin' helicopters
Blackhawk down fuck a chopper, ride my board 'till my knees falter

And fuck a weighing scale I’m a ten on the Richter
Hot as hell but on the 9th level I can get colder than the winter with a heater
Come and take the bullets from my steel son
Lookin’ above, pray to your God, still wishing you 'gon get none
Crossed lines longer than the roads that the Bone Thugs did
Though I ain’t thuggish just cause I took more drugs than Sid Vicious
I don’t chase the gold I ain’t a bitch so fuck your shitty quidditch
And if you snitches, better tell the pigs what you been witnessing

Yeah, I got a coma from the Indica
Visual shit from the absinthe I got from a Sikh in India
Writing over silver trucks, I’m riding on 'em silver trucks
Board zero like my fucks, it’s Threats stitched on my dirty chucks

Stomp curbs in it, this ain’t rush roulette, I've got a Glock with a fully loaded clip
Neatly tucked Between 874s and boxers stained with shit
Paisley button-up, above a bulletproof vest
In case they aim at my chest, and decide to lay me to rest

But
Nah boy I'm sleepless I’m the crystal all up in your system
Labeled crack twisted specimen by the cops that play victim
They chase me while I speak until I'm all out of my breath
The case is I’ll only shut up when I’m French kissing with the Angel of Death


Breaking the silence with the sirens coming from the Crown Vics
Making future convicts, I’ll have their innocence stripped
The inner sense shifts, I’m meth mixed with your psychedelics
I’ll ruin your bliss I’m the bad drip in your acid trips
Etch it on the granite, I’m manic, I cause panic ‘cross the planets
You got a death wish, boy I’m the shooting star that will grant it
You hope you still matter? I’m the black hole eating up this galaxy
You know it’s me
Coming when there's nothing left to see