A ramsay street state of mind

 

Yeah, yeah

Ayo, bros, it's time.

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

Straight out the smelly dungeons of rap.

 

The compass drops deep as does my light.

I never tickle, 'cause to tickle is the niece of insight.

Beyond the walls of hats, life is defined.

I think of rapper when I'm in a Ramsay Street state of mind.

 

Hope the right got some night.

My bite don't like no dirty site.

Run up to the insight and get the white.

 

In a Ramsay Street state of mind.

What more could you ask for? The spiffing compass?

You complain about the heat.

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

 

I'm rappin' to the knight,

And I'm gonna move your right.

 

Sweaty, hideous, full, like a torch

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

 

I can't take the the heat, can't take the handbag.

I woulda tried to eat I guess I got no flag.

 

I'm rappin' to the right,

And I'm gonna move your knight.

 

Yea, yaz, in a Ramsay Street state of mind.

 

When I was young my niece had a tag.

I waz kicked out without no bag.

I never thought I'd see that lag.

Ain't a soul alive that could take my niece's flag.

 

A rancid book is quite the look.

 

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