Picasso With The Script

By Verbal McMahon

On Village Voice

Thumbnail

[Intro]

Yeah

Yeah I'm fuckin ready

Yo

Lower East Side

Uh


[Verse]

Ayo my city is my mental state, bordered by the East River

My team is evil; Monster lungs, beast livers

Searching for the treasure, guess I gots to dig deeper

Avoid the reaper, faith leaper creature

Cheaper by the dozen, split the reefer with my cousin

Rhyme oven, I’m cookin' like a methhead

Ms. Thing leave the wet bed

Before & after I get head, & we could bet bets

If I had to choose a coast, choose the East Coast

2 of my aunties in the kitchen let the beef roast

Vigilante Verbal like Travis Bickle

Hammer & sickle, coat of arms, ring alarms

Everybody know he got charm & he calm

Hit up Amore, Flushing Queens for the Chicken Parm

Straight out the Apple, leave the corpse for you to see

If they cutting off my hands, I'll resort to my feet

The knights fight the fight then report to the King

MJ the reason Ewing short of a ring

Careful when you turn your back, get caught with a sting

And those hurt the most, adrenaline overdose

Hoes know my verses, recite all my hooks

The night full of crooks despite their good looks

Survivor Series & the kid Psycho Sid

Applying theories, now I do it better than my maestro did

Yeah

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

We in the Factory

NYK Nation

You heard?

Uh

Ayo


[Verse]

The hooligans get off the train on West 4th

I wait til 14th, never with a offspring

Not yet at least, the master write a clever piece

Shorty asked me to spread her cheeks, head is beast

I'd be lying if I told her that I never creep

I'm just a young man, Emil catch the pigskin with one hand

Gimme a couple inches more, guarantee you see the dunk slam

Slam dunk, don't get your man trucked, I suggest you play the background

They said Verb always good with words; No surprise that he rap now

To your feet you rise and clap now, track loud through the nostrils

Wear my heart on my sleeve but it's a costume

Place my order, if I'm starving then I'll cop 2

Whatever it is, Thomas Edison shit

Night crawler Verbal, prowl the city streets, gritty beats

The Scientist is up to it again

This blunt is for my family, this cup is for my friends

Make time for new beginnings or get stuck with loose ends

There's no team realer, we boast beat killers

Fossil on the wrist, apostle in the mist

Rhyme heaven, 5'7 but colossal when he spit

Writer, director, artist; Picasso with the script

Paint the picture vivid & make you bitches livid


[Outro]

...drink...(there's a lot of bitches in there?)

...yeah...yeah, there's bitches & shit...

(there's liquor?)...mad liquor, beer, mad bud

...Um...what else...niggas be...fuckin...

Just mackin, like, chillin, like what would you do?

(Beer pong & shit like that?)

Yeah, pong, I be schoolin niggas in pong

Go undefeated and shit, stay there for the whole night...