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lirik lagu ones & twos – shureshot hypothesis

[chorus}
shureshot hypothesis
creepin‘in to your mental consciousness
without the use of corporate sponsorships
and you know we rock that concert b-tch…

[verse 1]
so tell me
what’s the difference ‘tween me and you really?
keep our pockets full of cash
and our ears full of phillies
and our phillies full of onyx
supersonic, kinda torn up
cuz we only smoke the bombest of the mother f-ckin chronics
i’m a simple man i’m honest
i get it when i want it
make the ladies scream so loud the neighbors think my house is haunted
i spit more wisdom than jesus and mohamed
and i’m givin’ everybody everything they ever wanted in an mc
don’t pretend to be, yo it’s endless we
we intend to be the sure shot, the on top
the won’t stop, the real f-ckin hip hop
[verse 2]
do you hear what i hear?
i can smell the scent of fear
mcs know the end is near
still i’ve yet to shed a tear for ’em
their rhymes borin’
so i’m snorin’
warrin’ against the pimpin’ of hip hop
yet rappers keep on whorin’
full out battle’s on the way
the decay’s amazed me
to the point that i can’t stay away from the game
not the same
but x-rays could explain?
cuz you’ll see hip hop coursin’ through the blood in my veins…

[verse 3]
i never worked at mickey d’s
cuz i cooks it up fresh
but i can serve a m-th-f-ka in a minute or less, yes
don’t like the beef?
then i’ll serve ya the bird
i got a big red sign that a billion served
but i ain’t a battle rapper
this isn’t what i’m after
i seek peace, seek happiness, laughter
you turn the page, i wrote the f-cking chapter
i’m the one who plays the part y’all just a buncha actors

[chorus]

[verse 4]
and there’s the b-ss line
synchronize your waist line
trace it to a great rhyme wasted
face it, my mind’s a laced dime sack
my p-ss time, they hate it
my brain’s difficult to define
so i just can’t rhyme basic
the fault isn’t of mine these thoughts are hard to catch
half the time they hit my mind so fast they’re runnin’ outta breath
so the test is whether or not my hands can translate ‘em
to words becoming phrases, absurd to contemplate ‘em but
your comprehension’s not essential to this lesson
a rhyme without the guessin’s
like a smith without the wesson
a half without the steppin’
a rat without intention
sit back relax, feel my divine intervention…

- shureshot hypothesis

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