Masters Of Illusion. Kut Masta Kurt Presents Masters Of Illusion. Scared Straight. Zeneszám

"When three guys, will slide into your cell
Wrap your ass up in that blanket
They gon' kick your ass over the side of that bed
and do bodily harm to your asshole, by stickin a dick in it"

[Motion Man]
They looks at my styles, like a crackhead does upon a rock
and pipe to get hype, I got 'em dirty fiendin for me
Losin pounds for my sounds, that knows and tilts consumes the liquor
'til the 40 gets killed, I bite that apple lick my lips like LL
Doin it well, shock the world, charm your momma
Verbalizin your girl, don't fuck with sorcerers with lyric bombs
You know we got spells, abra-abra-abracadabra
Grabba, this rapper can abra-abra-cadaver another rapper
Change yo' range yo
I drop my styles offer than an obtuse angle, I'm threatening
Miraculous things be happening, every time I spit
the verbal through speakers
I'm on the court while you sorry niggaz sit in the bleachers
Cheerleaders, fear leaders, sissy niggaz with skirts
I'm catchin waves like white dude surfers with tans
My King Kong style, climbin buildings, holdin yo' bitch
I'm dichotomy to everybody, I'm fuckin melodic
Niggaz comin out with drama, lookin mad histrionic
I bounce uniquely, get up on this land, destroy you like water
Yo mother nature that's my hoe and I been pimpin her bro
My conversation's built like Spider-Man, it's neighborhood friendly
but expands like Apocalypse for niggaz that's envy
I back yo' team up ten yards cause yo' partner was holdin
I sacked your quarterback with fifty sacks, this money I'm foldin
He just an inmate with a cock up in you, {?} my style

[Chorus: x4]
"Dead as a mouse"
"Your butt's in jail", "so why you pushin it"
"In the house of pain"

[Kool Keith]
You got to handle it Bill, yeah, yo check the reason
I hear you scream loud, your cell door's full of semen
Prisoners catch you, posin hard like a statue
Too many men in your crew, but not there wit'chu
You Coppertone, put your wig on, you start to moan
Walkin your hallway, your panties shine, in the doorway
Cell block, you stop, inmates, you on they jock
Seein protection, big men hit your midsection
You gettin bumrushed, by TV's with a yeast infection
You on call, for a warden standin by the kitchen
You snitched my man, here's a tape, take a listen
You on security watch, walkin by the door
I explore more, raw to the deepest core
Yeah, have you on 4's

"You are his kid, you gotta clean this cell
You gotta wash his drawers and socks
And he wanna fuck you in your ass, you'll let him
And if he wanna sell you to another prisoner, he'll do that too"

[Chorus]