In the lab with a couple of monsters
A few things I'd like to say and a bottle of water
Some new games I'd like to play, but I cannot be bothered
Because my pen and my brain are plotting
Yo even now my hand is already convinced that it's time to get it on with
My composition notebook, and scribble down some hard shit
Then send a text to my mouth to turn it into raw spit
Threatening to shut my body down and give me jaundice
If I don't do my job on this
Not too many arguments that I can use to try and refuse
So let's move on and hit it with that mental brawn
Sake, fish, and prawns
Jasmine rice and leeks
Writing so much it feels like I haven't eaten in weeks
Dammit, these brothers still making beats
It's Fantasia how my body keeps responding to the music that they're making
Not complaining...I'm just saying
I get so hyper that in my imagination it's like I'm lost in a cypher
Hit me with a lighter
And put one in the air sun, I'll be damned if imma fight ya
The fire gwan come. I'm bucking 'em, blam-blam
I'm shooting ducks, moving trucks full of that grand gram
Not doing drugs. I wish I had that kind of time
But it's been way too many days so my soul is choosing to rhyme
For page after page, line after line
From syllable to word to phrase
To formulated thoughts that amaze
My fingers aching like they're caught in a rage
Victimized and put to work for all the cost and no pay
But if I don't let it happen, it'll get in my face
And start talking shit until I let it get down anyway
See my skill's fully aware that I don't ever use a smartphone
Or iPod or laptop Idea-Lenovo
It's always been my trusty pen and papyrus since high school
You might think that I'm a fool
But I've been writing too much to start relying on typing for lyric preservation
I'll never get to those degrees of separation
From knowing what my words really look like before I speak 'em
My pen is getting dry
So let me end this meeting
By apologizing for not writing a chorus
Only a verse, anything else was not a sign from Horus
But I appreciate what you're doing by sitting here to listen
We ended late, but it's a good one
Shadowstar Boxer - A Good One (feat. Huph) Lyrics
Shadowstar Boxer - A Good One (feat. Huph) Lyrics
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In the lab with a couple of monsters
A few things I'd like to say and a bottle of water
Some new games I'd like to play, but I cannot be bothered
Because my pen and my brain are plotting
Yo even now my hand is already convinced that it's time to get it on with
My composition notebook, and scribble down some hard shit
Then send a text to my mouth to turn it into raw spit
Threatening to shut my body down and give me jaundice
If I don't do my job on this
Not too many arguments that I can use to try and refuse
So let's move on and hit it with that mental brawn
Sake, fish, and prawns
Jasmine rice and leeks
Writing so much it feels like I haven't eaten in weeks
Dammit, these brothers still making beats
It's Fantasia how my body keeps responding to the music that they're making
Not complaining...I'm just saying
I get so hyper that in my imagination it's like I'm lost in a cypher
Hit me with a lighter
And put one in the air sun, I'll be damned if imma fight ya
The fire gwan come. I'm bucking 'em, blam-blam
I'm shooting ducks, moving trucks full of that grand gram
Not doing drugs. I wish I had that kind of time
But it's been way too many days so my soul is choosing to rhyme
For page after page, line after line
From syllable to word to phrase
To formulated thoughts that amaze
My fingers aching like they're caught in a rage
Victimized and put to work for all the cost and no pay
But if I don't let it happen, it'll get in my face
And start talking shit until I let it get down anyway
See my skill's fully aware that I don't ever use a smartphone
Or iPod or laptop Idea-Lenovo
It's always been my trusty pen and papyrus since high school
You might think that I'm a fool
But I've been writing too much to start relying on typing for lyric preservation
I'll never get to those degrees of separation
From knowing what my words really look like before I speak 'em
My pen is getting dry
So let me end this meeting
By apologizing for not writing a chorus
Only a verse, anything else was not a sign from Horus
But I appreciate what you're doing by sitting here to listen
We ended late, but it's a good one
A few things I'd like to say and a bottle of water
Some new games I'd like to play, but I cannot be bothered
Because my pen and my brain are plotting
Yo even now my hand is already convinced that it's time to get it on with
My composition notebook, and scribble down some hard shit
Then send a text to my mouth to turn it into raw spit
Threatening to shut my body down and give me jaundice
If I don't do my job on this
Not too many arguments that I can use to try and refuse
So let's move on and hit it with that mental brawn
Sake, fish, and prawns
Jasmine rice and leeks
Writing so much it feels like I haven't eaten in weeks
Dammit, these brothers still making beats
It's Fantasia how my body keeps responding to the music that they're making
Not complaining...I'm just saying
I get so hyper that in my imagination it's like I'm lost in a cypher
Hit me with a lighter
And put one in the air sun, I'll be damned if imma fight ya
The fire gwan come. I'm bucking 'em, blam-blam
I'm shooting ducks, moving trucks full of that grand gram
Not doing drugs. I wish I had that kind of time
But it's been way too many days so my soul is choosing to rhyme
For page after page, line after line
From syllable to word to phrase
To formulated thoughts that amaze
My fingers aching like they're caught in a rage
Victimized and put to work for all the cost and no pay
But if I don't let it happen, it'll get in my face
And start talking shit until I let it get down anyway
See my skill's fully aware that I don't ever use a smartphone
Or iPod or laptop Idea-Lenovo
It's always been my trusty pen and papyrus since high school
You might think that I'm a fool
But I've been writing too much to start relying on typing for lyric preservation
I'll never get to those degrees of separation
From knowing what my words really look like before I speak 'em
My pen is getting dry
So let me end this meeting
By apologizing for not writing a chorus
Only a verse, anything else was not a sign from Horus
But I appreciate what you're doing by sitting here to listen
We ended late, but it's a good one
Writer: Willie Phillips
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid