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turkce

saafir - real circus

i bought my ticket ten years ago when in demand
was the candy caramel. i submerged like a
murk on the mental. but it was hard to tell if
nails pitched on my tent on time, with the ringmaster
- god - had a whip. hit me on my hip, now i\'m on
a hop, but it don\'t stop. now i advise the wise
why, why did you let me out the flock? now i\'m
flowin pro, flippin flu, germs wit a new perm
i\'m hittin different regions. it\'s winter season
tryin to forget the treason of my twisted sister, so
i turn my face when rockin rollin in myst-ic
so side show freaks can\'t peep the mask task-force
behind the jacket, so i\'m packin not because i\'m
hard. i\'m paranoid, i\'m far away from
god. he can\'t see me. i ignorantly thought he caught me
dreamin, in comes the demon tryin to shoot me
that semen. one way i\'m off the brink, the detour
was unblocked. i\'m strictly on instinct, i\'m walkin
over barriers. i\'m spooked cause i keep hearin
the word spades. they tryin to pull my card
they\'re goin to get it, i won\'t forget it like an
elephant, tiger, lions rely on the funky monkey
dyin in the real circus

i\'m finally out of my cage, it\'s been ten swings since
i quenched the silence. sure to erupt eyes-lids
till they\'re queasy from the degree of the tilt of
a trapeze performer that\'s proven succession in
the progression of a juggler, vain slitter, my spear
shifted. saafir\'s gifted like black santa. i was
born a flipper with sticks and balance beams
i learn to differ swift stimulation of a soul snatcher.
oh! here they come jay-z, 15 deep
in a clown car wit make-up, but i got make-up
for ya - wake up. i lay material like dogs upside
down cakes. i give pounds to fakes so my cleets
stake claims, skills have belittled spittle. what\'s
coming from that grill - waffles, ya shit is awful
further let\'s implore for more speech reach back
for the cage where the elves are plottin schemes
you ask me to explain what i mean, i will in
the afterlife kill death, i verify the untimid
breath, i\'m trustworthy to the busting of dirty
thirty-thousand year old authentic, i\'ll win it
just as the thought has brought into focus comes
the real traveling circus.

i\'m jumpin through hoops, can you dance like a
panther? i can. i pick my prey in shades of
grey, but i\'m not color blind on the rhyme. the
circus is in my scalp. i\'m higher than the alps
i\'ll make you break camp. i tame crews like shrews
i bust nuts without screws. can you do that - hardly.
ya too stiff malarky art kits, give up the drawings
ya never saw swings cling when the grip whips
that makes you feel like the real circus.