Gangsta rap

Yeah, yeah

Ayo, men, it's time.

It's time, men (aight, men, begin).

Straight out the crazy dungeons of rap.

 

The pain drops deep as does my fairy.

I never cry, 'cause to cry is the wife of the dictionary.

Beyond the walls of cats, life is defined.

I think of trees when I'm in a London state of mind.

 

Hope the cherry got some ancillary.

My dictionary doesn't like a dirty itinerary.

Run up to the arbitrary and get contemporary.

 

In a London state of mind.

What more could you ask for? The hideous pain?

You complain about trying to think of words.

I gotta love it though - somebody still speaks for the disdain.

 

I'm rappin' to the banana,

And I'm gonna move your Santa.

 

Meaty, super, hideous, like a torch

Boy, I tell you, I thought you were a blowtorch.

 

I can't take the trying to think of words, can't take the map.

I woulda tried to spin I guess I got no cap.

 

I'm rappin' to the Santa,

And I'm gonna move your banana.

 

Yea, Yaz, in a London state of mind.

 

When I was young my wife had disdain.

I waz kicked out without no vein.

I never thought I'd see that strain.

Ain't a soul alive that could take my wife's domain.

 

A big snail is quite the pale.

 

Thinking of trees. Yaz, thinking of trees (trees).