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CAGE lyrics : "Escape To '88"

[Scratches]

[Verse 1]

Welcome to a piece of brain tissue, my brain's lungs
Filled with octane like liquid it came from
Some silly, said her tits sellin illy

Really? By the jar? Pump the car full of grey jelly
Called her Ronda, after I %#@! on the dash
Cause I can't stand hooked up on dust

The three manuveur so swiftly in and out of looters
Through checkpoints with juice in stashed coolers
2002, my album's played through

ID on the window like it's $#&@ing Beirut
Too bad no planes flew into MTV
I'll never get a platinum plaque for MP3

Being blackballed by a white MC - Pause
I guess that !@$)got found the right MD
And I'm twisted but not like !@$)gots that suck fame

This clown is saying I'm sicker with metal than mudvayne
I train my following like a (*##$ modelin
H is like a God and it won't stop hollerin

$#&@ needing a TV to be a rockstar
Punch a hole through Mark Wahlbergs chest and dent a copcar
Put my brain in it, I wouldn't last a minute

Scribble some %#@! in 30, I'm love like gimmicks
!@%*s, cynics, ducks with dipped spinnage
$#&@in you up in the front row's good for image


[Scratches]


[Verse 2]
I gotta walk on, half feet in Harlem for a gorilla
That lost his family and want revenge on his killer

Clapped the poacher, fled the stomach of rap through and ulcer
Covered in blood, eating with vultures
Off the chain and got a hook in his backskull to my feet

Breastfeeding, moms was cooking up crack
Drop me in a pot, cop in the spot, pistols gleaming in the sun
Look son - I'm fistal fiendin

Nine to script with leading any malicious beatings
Specially if feeled if the couples (*##$ is breedin
Six is reading, bitterly gritty

Caught a GTA charge before Liberty City
Too bad no brains blew out no heads plenty
I'll prolly die after I Blow like Ted Demme

There's no conspiracy, your (*##$ is a forced fit
In the telly yelling "Behold the pale horse dick"
$#&@ the Taliban, I'm back to Ballys, and

Keep your little !@$)got brother off her Sally, man
I can explain this "do not cross this line" in my brain
Feds in the crib, but they're not finding the cane

Cause time in the game, New York is trife
My boy T on the lamb like a fork and knife
The corporate life, too fond of the blonde talker

So I grew a beard and switched sides like John Walker

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