West Coast Connection Forum
Elements => Tha Studio => Topic started by: .:TimeLock:. on December 25, 2002, 10:23:35 PM
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The Topic skill... who got it?...mine is sharp and known to kill...who want it?...
emcees prewrite they wills... take de-sensitising pills...
cuz battlin' me, for them means... ills, kills 'n' blood spills...
opponants guard yo grills, and keep em closed tight, perminate with seals...
when TimeLock spit, I bring electric shock like eels, bitches flock... my glot heads it peels...
breaking contracts... and ending record deals, so call it harsh, i call it a days work that's how i make my meals...
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skill... i'm comin' heated like skilletz connected 2 gas tanks...
tryna full fill it, my dreams n put some cash n the bank...
w/ a kamazaki "pilot" pen in my hand that's spews ink...
translatin' my thoughts on2 paper so all u'z can think...
tryna figure it out like a crossword, up, down, diagnal or other...
don't fuck wit me, i'm sicc enuff 2 strangle ya mother...
as i smother the game wit flows soft like pillows...
or hit em hard like a brick 2 the dome becuz it's real yo...
u need 2 rewind the tape repeatedly, til u can see...
the message or understand where i'm comin' from stressin'...
the fact, that everyday i walk around wearin' a mask...
hidin' my true idenity from the public's optical vision...
i was opt in2 the position of livin' a life w/o givin'...
a fuck, shiverin' out in a hail storm of thoughtz...
somehow throu the struggle i'll still prevail, leavin' em lookin' frail wit twin glocks...
i bail, out as the voices shatter ear canals and sin talks...
to me, mysteriously and clever thou bone chillin' @ times...
when the nerve raccin' voices won't leave the confinement of my mind...
i need help, i'm verbally killin' on site...
and the only weapon remains my mind or the pen from wich i write...
wit, and fingerprints or substancial evidence don't exist...
and all that's been confirmed is that the kid is tight as shit...