Butcher's Bill

I find it hard to believe that you know my steez

Please, you're a fart in the wind, a soft breeze

Get up off your knees and look me in the eye

You a fruit like what gets cooked into a pie

Hooked and high yeah the pot still stink

Like when a wet sausage link rot in the sink

Not what you think, create change like a quarter

For putting these strange hate raps into recorder

Might as well go for a soder, aaah I mean soda

Mix it with the rye and green to fill the quota

Colder than North Dakota (you need to compare?)

You look a whole hell of a lot like Rick Flair

What you think it's welfare? And suck air out of a dingy

Aaaaah! You think I give a **** about Chingy?

, yo the future ain't sunny

People still hungry and the butcher want his money

A shake these

Greatest of ease

Give me a break beat, you'll hate me and make me leave

I don't play things, it's like I have a disease

I see another and another and they're covered in cheese

I could give a fat **** what the government sees

I wouldn't rock shit by anybody other than me

Sucker will be, kind when he suffer defeat

Step aside and we'll find somebody tougher to beat

We need

Understanding, number one fans

With their hands up dancing, up in the stand

We look good

Your ugly hands

And when P&C arrived they say you're utterly bland

You started dabbling in something you can't

about a grand

You stumble into rap unplanned

Making of a band

from the shaking of a hand

You gettin' hacked up

I'm talkin' big bad cuts

Of mismatched chumps

The blitz man mush

So lean back, jump

Will slip that skuzz like Dristan does

And who's tracks bump?

Man, Smith and Gruf

You ice grilling her, you need to fix that mug

Man, chill the **** out, you need to six pack us

On a rehab, we had with mis-manners

and grandma and added disses

Ain't kick the can?

Aww, that old bitch is persistent

No majors since the P&C imprint

We playing stages so cold that they gave us shrink dink

Scare up the best of the local fodders

Still I'm wearing no vest, this ain't Open Water

I'll can drown your sorrow

You can wallow and piss

You never headline but somehow you follow the Smith

Abolish this, I'm trying to profit and binge

I'd stop but it crawls in my skin and

Like Trainspotting, I'm off the syringe

I'm committed mother****er ain't no waffling prick

"The butcher"

"Yeahh"

"Break bread " - Common 'The Food'

" Have you cut up if you don't pay up " - Musolini '40 Island'

That's Satchel Paige

Mr. Break Legs

Mr. No Legs

Smash talk Winnipeg

Black Terry Fox

Call him Terry Locks

Mr. Ready Or Not

You ain't ready or not

Mister, you are not

For the body's that rot?

You better call up the cops

We gonna dig up the plots

This is Break Bread, butcher shop talk

You best to walk

You think you's tough?

Yo that's a bluff

Don't **** with Yy or Gruf

You bite?

Toss out your spine

with the cooking wine

A little curry and you're tasting fine

Mcenroe on the accordion

Bring the reporters in

Who let this nigga in?

Satchel the champion

I take my place, where ever I like

Like on the love seat right beside your wife