Schmack! - Chords

I jump the beat, work it like a pogo stick

Oh no, it’s Chords with a thorn in his side

«Crash your cipher» turn it into «the lord of the flies»

On tour 'til I die, I swear man Chords wouldn’t lie

'Til the states stop celebratin' the 4th of July

'Til the fat man eats the last order of fries

And the big fish stop swimming in corporate lies

«Stick to the plan» hand over a list of demands

Give me 12 beats, a studio and 600 grams

«Man» and you’ll be there to see the shit hit the fan

Spliff in his hand popped up like the mystery man

«Damn» I jump up swing the toolie

«Nunchucks» straight out of a ninja movie

«Fucked up» didn’t really mean to injure groupies

«Tough luck» I was aiming for Marimba Roney

What’s on the menu doc, who’s next to get scarred?

I wild out like hard rocks with electric guitars

Fill the page up with decadent bar

Make rappers head for the stalls, checkin' their drawls

And it’s quite amazing how I run through quick

Like 1,2 #### you’re in a kung fu grip

M.O.N.S.

drops the body rock

And if he’s fuckin with the beat, shit is probably hot

If you fuck around with me you should probably stop

«You know my steez» I break up ciphers with karate chops, man

So you better avoid the issue

I run through notepads like it was a toilet tissue

«Deploy the missiles» show 'em I mean business

Let my tongue start rollin' like Gene Simmons

Fuck that, I throw a knuckle sandwich at 'em

And call the paramedics while I puff the magic dragon

You can catch me in the back with a sticky

In a cloud of smoke man, I leave the smackin' to Miki

«That's how it goes» still roll through in a Yugo

Both you and your crew know who’s numero uno

Who else, none other, C to the H O

So reach for the payroll and leave me the pesos

It’s all a part of a master plan

You get a publisher, hit him for a cash advance

Then get kitted out like Dapper Dan

And blow it all in one week down in Amsterdam

There’s only two rules: shit, you’re rich 'til you’re broke

And anything that can be saved in the mix is a joke

I spit to provoke, leave competition stiff as the pope

Arrogance, ill flow, got a little of both

I just mix 'em up with molten lava

Ghost I’m gone I leave you with an open palm