[Verse 1: Jimmy E.L.E]
This linguistic laceration meets your mental masturbation, expect ejaculation, plus amazement that these patient penciled statements, through careful anguished language recombination, could cause orgasmic praying mantis type decapitations
Through elevation I mastered patience, it led to my emancipation proclamation
Assalamu Alaikum, no bacon, just a man son but they fear me just like Manson shaking hands with Shaytan holding him for ransom
I'm handsome and clever and I've been known to sever emcees heads whenever wherever, ask Shakira she'll tell ya if I don't bring the guerra, Vida Guerra got a big ass, but war is what I mean you fucking bitch ass
[Hook: Jimmy E.L.E]
I'm taking it back to packing a mac in the back of the ac, cause matter of fact rappers what do they lack over the track?
Tact and skill, here's a mad rap that'll back smack that grill make em lack swag and chill
[Verse 2: Jimmy E.L.E]
Unveil them for what they are for real, holy cow! they're veal, atrophied, catastrophe is what they feel, when they try to actually battle me in the battlefield, they're holding their ax and shield, hoping my actions will, not crack their ass so fast, paragraphs been known to crack a man in half like steel
Mass appeal that's what they do it for, attracted to fame like moths to flame, stupid whores checking for your name only if you have a shoe in stores
I tell them I'm the chupanalga troubadour!
[Hook: Jimmy E.L.E]
I'm taking it back to packing a mac in the back of the ac, cause matter of fact rappers what do they lack over the track?
Tact and skill, here's a mad rap that'll back smack that grill make em lack swag and chill
[Verse 3: Jimmy E.L.E]
Watch me drop the anvil like acme, so you can feel this bump like acne, I'm athlete, with my javelin reach unraveling speech, I let it dabble in my abdomen until it scramble past the peak, then I blast the heat, and melt you like a resees piece, take you for your jesus piece, and leave you in the fucking streets
It's still 1 8 7 on a wack rap
{Verse 4: Jimmy E.L.E]
Call me the Avatar cause as far as rap goes, I got four elements inside of my black soul, Pac Biggie Big L and Big Pun's ghost won't let me rest until I resurrect hip-hop's stronghold, over the mental of the children my pencil is made for building strong foundations with no ceilings, my body is the vessel and it's made of earth, my saliva is the water and it lubricates the verse, the air in my lungs disperse the verse, but it wouldn't work without the energy of which
The endless fire exerts
Yes sir! Another killer verse transmitted through gigahertz, the illest your dog has ever heard, he heard it as erf, erf
Erf, erf, erf, erf, erf, erf, erf, erf, and your cat said "You've cat to be kitten me right meow!" shout outs to Sebastian Nino
We know who the best from here to Budapest, might as well just boo the rest off, Who the rest are? Bunch of stressed stars, gassed up cause best are we, so they get passed up like Boyardee, compared to Carabba's or Carabba's compared to your Mama's lasagna, (inhales breath) Your honor I didn't mean to eat emcees like Dahmer, but I got this groupon to eat solo emcees who try to get their groove on by creating group songs, cause together they figure they're better, yeah for them to get pooped on, by the E.L.E, Endless Energy indeed, the force is on, like Nick Swardson their shit's weak, if they were a Pokemon they would be, a Magikarp, In Harry P's world they'd get destroyed by magic arts! Tragic darts berserk, fighting words for nerds, hit em where it hurts, my jerk tendencies for sure absurd enough to snatch a purse from your favorite rapper, when they're no longer heard, you can tell em that my yapper was responsible, plus the monster flow, is
[Hook: Jimmy E.L.E]
Taking it back to packing a mac in the back of the ac, cause matter of fact rappers what do they lack over the track?
Tact and skill, here's a mad rap that'll back smack that grill make em lack swag and chill
[Outro: Jimmy E.L.E]
Fosho, masterful type ish, pay homage you little bitch, See what you don't know about the E.L.E is, I'm not going to stop
Until I'm worth 3 Master P's and 2 Jay-Z's
"I could feel it!"
I'm not gonna stop until I have a building with my name on it, and when I get that I'm going to perform cavity searches
On everybody, except for people named Muhammad, or anybody with an Arabic sounding name
This linguistic laceration meets your mental masturbation, expect ejaculation, plus amazement that these patient penciled statements, through careful anguished language recombination, could cause orgasmic praying mantis type decapitations
Through elevation I mastered patience, it led to my emancipation proclamation
Assalamu Alaikum, no bacon, just a man son but they fear me just like Manson shaking hands with Shaytan holding him for ransom
I'm handsome and clever and I've been known to sever emcees heads whenever wherever, ask Shakira she'll tell ya if I don't bring the guerra, Vida Guerra got a big ass, but war is what I mean you fucking bitch ass
[Hook: Jimmy E.L.E]
I'm taking it back to packing a mac in the back of the ac, cause matter of fact rappers what do they lack over the track?
Tact and skill, here's a mad rap that'll back smack that grill make em lack swag and chill
[Verse 2: Jimmy E.L.E]
Unveil them for what they are for real, holy cow! they're veal, atrophied, catastrophe is what they feel, when they try to actually battle me in the battlefield, they're holding their ax and shield, hoping my actions will, not crack their ass so fast, paragraphs been known to crack a man in half like steel
Mass appeal that's what they do it for, attracted to fame like moths to flame, stupid whores checking for your name only if you have a shoe in stores
I tell them I'm the chupanalga troubadour!
[Hook: Jimmy E.L.E]
I'm taking it back to packing a mac in the back of the ac, cause matter of fact rappers what do they lack over the track?
Tact and skill, here's a mad rap that'll back smack that grill make em lack swag and chill
[Verse 3: Jimmy E.L.E]
Watch me drop the anvil like acme, so you can feel this bump like acne, I'm athlete, with my javelin reach unraveling speech, I let it dabble in my abdomen until it scramble past the peak, then I blast the heat, and melt you like a resees piece, take you for your jesus piece, and leave you in the fucking streets
It's still 1 8 7 on a wack rap
{Verse 4: Jimmy E.L.E]
Call me the Avatar cause as far as rap goes, I got four elements inside of my black soul, Pac Biggie Big L and Big Pun's ghost won't let me rest until I resurrect hip-hop's stronghold, over the mental of the children my pencil is made for building strong foundations with no ceilings, my body is the vessel and it's made of earth, my saliva is the water and it lubricates the verse, the air in my lungs disperse the verse, but it wouldn't work without the energy of which
The endless fire exerts
Yes sir! Another killer verse transmitted through gigahertz, the illest your dog has ever heard, he heard it as erf, erf
Erf, erf, erf, erf, erf, erf, erf, erf, and your cat said "You've cat to be kitten me right meow!" shout outs to Sebastian Nino
We know who the best from here to Budapest, might as well just boo the rest off, Who the rest are? Bunch of stressed stars, gassed up cause best are we, so they get passed up like Boyardee, compared to Carabba's or Carabba's compared to your Mama's lasagna, (inhales breath) Your honor I didn't mean to eat emcees like Dahmer, but I got this groupon to eat solo emcees who try to get their groove on by creating group songs, cause together they figure they're better, yeah for them to get pooped on, by the E.L.E, Endless Energy indeed, the force is on, like Nick Swardson their shit's weak, if they were a Pokemon they would be, a Magikarp, In Harry P's world they'd get destroyed by magic arts! Tragic darts berserk, fighting words for nerds, hit em where it hurts, my jerk tendencies for sure absurd enough to snatch a purse from your favorite rapper, when they're no longer heard, you can tell em that my yapper was responsible, plus the monster flow, is
[Hook: Jimmy E.L.E]
Taking it back to packing a mac in the back of the ac, cause matter of fact rappers what do they lack over the track?
Tact and skill, here's a mad rap that'll back smack that grill make em lack swag and chill
[Outro: Jimmy E.L.E]
Fosho, masterful type ish, pay homage you little bitch, See what you don't know about the E.L.E is, I'm not going to stop
Until I'm worth 3 Master P's and 2 Jay-Z's
"I could feel it!"
I'm not gonna stop until I have a building with my name on it, and when I get that I'm going to perform cavity searches
On everybody, except for people named Muhammad, or anybody with an Arabic sounding name
( Jimmy E.L.E )
www.ChordsAZ.com