Intelligent Lifeforms

By Fyre

On XIII

Released on October 31, 2003

Thumbnail

[G Rider]

Boss balling, shot calling everyday in Cali

Mashing and relaxing, watch these wheels rally

I don't need a paycheck to get paid

I don't even need a job to have it made

Don't let them fool you, God is everywhere

Even in your sin, even in your prayer

Divided and delighted, true negotiations

Papa tried to offer so we had to drop

Station crazy bongo drums, rusted in diffusion

Covered in enlightenment, listen to illusion

Pop your collar player, there's no reason not to

With the part time mayor, now look what it's got you

Smoked out; slanging, hanging, banging

Flirting, hurting, no time remaining

I don't need no, I don't need no-

Young G baby, let me hit this flow


[Swank Daddy]

Is that really what you told me? Is that really what you owe me?

Is your time this special? So special, you're an asshole?

Does your car have a bloodstream? Does it tell you to go faster?

Are you really that important? Do you think you're a factor?

Do you believe he rolls a good one? Can you comprehend the rain storm?

Have you ever thought to try, man? To think this land is your land?

To think this land is my land? How far would you go for a cash flow?

What would you do just to not know?

Do you live for recognition? And down for a better position?

Don't you just love your acquisition?

Are you a puppet to submission?

Do you believe in a religion? And claim another's forbidden?

Another day's passed on, do you say thanks to anyone?

Was it true, was it you, are you there?

Do you have the nerve to compare?

And if you think these are questions, maybe you should keep on going


[Mxlplx]

Stomping through the swamp, hella dirty and depressed

You can call this what you want, but you can't hurt me, nonetheless

Forever feeling out of touch, burdened by the emptiness

Fueling my fire with the rush, burning my sanity to death

They try but can't nobody fuck with how I mash on every set

Like an 18 wheeler truck over a pack of cigarettes

Only the realest nut can ride without a need for rest

Feel the real shit in my gut like a bullet in your chest

Threw up your piece and let some bucks off on the fly to leave em wet

Kill to die with many cuts with nothing but utmost respect

Born and bred inside the cuts, I hold it down and I forget

Where I'm from and where I'm going tries to put my ass in check

Play it cool like the ocean, must refuse the urge to stress

One wrong move and you're floating on your stomach with regrets

We cruise like blues in slow motion down this one music cleft

Find the clues cuz we're not knowing what the fuck will happen next

Forever out control and laying low like silhouettes