[Lyric] Ballad for the blasé (Themba Ntaka)

[Verse 1: Themba Ntaka]
A balled for the blasé to which he can relate is enough to feed his soul which is a hot tamale
These impetuous thoughts make me a jumping bean
Toilworn arm lengths grasp for a pristine existence
They want a way to rid odd-balls like vets who neuter, to get the pewter
Policeman's aura is a centrifugal fuss
Contingent upon the social stimulus, which is us
What I do with words is what Kenzie do to sensi
Lofty windshield wipers fend off envy
I admit I felt parasitic when I did it
So when I get the day I always waste away
The taut hand-grip is fit to keep those with their fist clenched in position
My enmity's still standing
The only accepted one that's not thrash dancing

[Verse 2: Mikey Kim]
Uh, yeah
Dancing
Nah I'm just laughing, at your fucking face
You a big dis-fucking-grace
You ain't fucking hating cause you hating on my race
Damn, 'bout to fucking smack you, how does that taste
Nah, make me get the mace
Nah I'm just chilling, you ain't fucking want this fucking spice
Make you fucking melt like ice
Nah, baby
Let me just fuck you in the fucking ass
You say, "Stop!", then I say, "Nah."
I'mma fucking bounce-hop like a fucking bunny
You ain't fucking want it cause I get greens call that shit money
Yeah, baby, got that fucking shit in my pocket
Got weed, high as a rocket
Yeah, let me pull it out, let me pull it out
Let me with the .38 like Peanut
Let me tell you what's fucking up
Let me tell you, "You ain't got that fucking roll game."
Blunts, you ain't got that.. Bob Marley roll game
Pete, fuck out of here
Kenny Shin going in
Nah.. I'm just fucking kidding around
But I don't care cause she comes back like a rebound but I'm fucking with the sound
Fucking with this track
I don't care with my fucking Black, yeah, Asian, yeah
Fucking coming, yeah, Caucasian
In this fucking shit
Nah we're just spitting, with the fucking beats
Like the sun cause I just bring the fucking heat
Yeah I just got to fucking spit
Like ain't ain't free, some shit's fucking ripped
But I don't really care cause you a prick
All the shit I get is that what'll stick
Nah, icky
You don't fucking want it cause you get that fucking icky like Vicky
You ain't fucking getting that Cosmo, Wanda
Panda
I don't really care cause I'm with my fucking Kami-kaze
And fucking Petey
Nah and Mikey
3-way, triple
And with the beanies
Ah, yeah, with the beanie
LRG, that's how I do
Hustle trees that's what I do
Hustle trees that's what I do
Keep it tangy like key lime pie!
Damn, we were going in, we were going in, let's play that shit
Yeah
Life of Key Lime Pie
The summer's flying by