Met a million chameleons that must of migrated south,
Lizard actin’ motherfuckers with wide shap-ed mouths/
I take em out..but its hard to chill at the bar an grill,
..I have to hate there plastic plates piled with grapes an sprouts/
some styles are breakin ground, im on top with copper shoes,
ready to rock a noose longer than my leg’s hypotenuse/
gotta choose if I oughta bruise my only math teacher,
class cheaters laugh n’ bow, guess now I’m the mass preacher/
chicks, show ya ass features, fellas flash at least a hun,
leave a cop some fat liters, get it on the pizza run/
im ousting the answers, why you chicks trying to transfer?
Ya better off Unit-ing down and jousting my lancer,
Lets keep sane maturity, fuck that about ya tainted purity,
Lies float thru ya blues eyes only to gain security/
Step sideways, I’ll drain ya burgundy wit` well-placed openings,
If I ever see you in the cellar when my safes opening/
Wine grapes opening…always crisp with a crunch,
May have been the same ones I was dissing at lunch/
Maybe this is a hunch, I thought it could been seen from a distance,
But lot of old junk floats around when we dream of the vintage/
Teams of resistance keepin’ persistent very few days,
cause who says what we’re missin is from the new age,
now, we think how if only Then exists..
there would be no revolution, and not one need to Reminisce.
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