The Boulevard - Slaine

That’s 2011 shit

Hip-Hop is still alive in the flesh

Emcees…

The fuck, man

I like that old bullshit

When the MCs came to live out the name

And to peform

Some had to snort cocaine to act insane

You wild Slaine, you wild, you wild

I was sort of sicko, I’m psycho, slightly insane

Stick a nickle bag right in the pipe, lighten the flame

Ditch a motherfucking cab, steal a bike in the rain

Wipe it out on the train tracks, I ain’t right in my brain

Put the skull in the scully, put the bully in boulevard

Smoke koolies with Julie, suck me off 'til I’m fully hard

Blow a load and wipe it off then give it to Jenny

She can suck it soft for me, bust a nut with the semi

Any occasion I’m staying for days in a Days Inn

Cocaine and liquor and a bunch of Caucasian

Women who want food stamps and raising children

In project buildings they know my rhymes, it’s amazing

The white trash king of the corner;

the block bastard

You fucking has-been, you been dead — you got blasted

I’m still alive I’m making history built

Like these bitches in the media, they’re pissed at me still

I blacked out a couple years and ended up in the flesh

I ain’t catch a case I bought mad new kicks and whips

Got two bank accounts and them shits is fat

Now I’m the mouse with the cheese 'cause I tricked the trap

I’m in the tub stroking bitches like Fritz the Cat

Then the pigs busted in and tried to frisk me black

Like emcees is jumping out shoes and socks

Crowbars up the block giving niggas speed knocks

Now you’re bleeding, leaking on your new outfit

Bragging 'bout your new kicks that ain’t come out yet

You’re just a fraud frying up swine and lard

You’ll probably sin all week then go praise your Lord

Good luck, I hope you wash away your sins and such

Or make it through your bid without getting fucked up

Studio session, wrote a ill verse and I’m out

Human Centipede, shittle in your girlfriend mouth, what!

The earth maker the earthquaker

The Doctor Killpatient is urgent to nurse pager

My fifth fire first, motherfucker the first blazer

Asiatic, black man, fan of Fantasia

Boot Camp Clik, Nike all of my life

Might ball up my fist, hit you with all of my might (Bow)

The story of Ricky

Wanted the dick and a fifth of this, horny as shit B

I might smack something from rapping, your rap’s fronting

Goodnight and have something when clapping the gat hunting

Good will but I’m still the janitor

Smarter than all the rest but they scared to damage you, uh

I’m still insane, Bill and Slaine

Party over here, bitch, pills and 'caine

You a frat boy nigga and you’re

I’m a gat boy nigga, when it’s drawn, I dare you (P.)

Body the great, three shotties to shake

Your foundation down in the first fucking place

Haha, worst case scenario:

Gun burst, break face, make you aerial

Yo, ILL BILL A.K.A Illmatic

Walking conspiracy like the HIV that didn’t kill Magic

Bricks and Glocks, all white bottles is broken

Same shit that got Sean Price kicked out of La Coka

I be the next one to over-relapse, growing weed plants

With weed champs, LSD stamps, felony grams

Thousand-dollar lesbians dance, catch me in France

Showtime, counting plenty of cash, mentally am politic like the Kennedy clan

Whether we’re in a tour bus or a van we’ll forever be fanned

It’s said work makes you free on the gates of Auschwitz

Same way 99% of y’all ain’t about shit

I pull cards and call things as I see 'em

Fuck a glass house, put you in a glass mausoleum

Then jump in the mosh pit, my presence is like when Satan is conjured

Or better yet, like Slayer in concert