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Play the Drum Lyrics

from Late Night Tales

"Play the Drum" is track #4 on the album Late Night Tales.
"Play the Drum" is track #4 on the album Late Night Tales.

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I want to play the drums (ah ha ah ha)
In such a crazy way (come on, come on)
And everyone around will say
You ought to here him play (lick shots)
Ya'll slippin'
At your notebook leakin'
I'm grim-reapin'
Long days, no weekend
Vacation, please
You ain't Peep it?
We're Ruling the scene right now
Can't leave it
Ain't an MC in the bay that could see this
B-List they couldn't crawl through my sneakers
Fists and tough tits, cuffs, and Black Jesus
My pens alive all my lyrics are wild creatures
If- speakers had teeth they'd rip you to pieces
Ferocious beast of speech
Priest of reason
Hip Hop nation? That shit treason
My pen screams- "This ain't ink trick, I'm bleeding!"
Whatever it is you got we don't need it
Kick Rocks. You see I'm busy right? Beat it!
These ain't lyrics, it's my notebook dreaming
I wrote this while leaning on a brown skin queen from Sweden
Life's streaming
My rhymes are stars
I'm crying by the river
You singing Babylon songs
II'm a young Yoda
Yo, my tongue does yoga
Soilder's son
Run parumpah pum pum
[Chours]
This is Vision
I proceed with the mission
And stretch like guitar strings that crawl through the rhythm
Collision of blends
Classic selection of diction
Surgically written precision
Sick with the tip of the tongue, teeth and lips
Make you quit or just lie to yourself and yo' click
Lookin' stiff to the playback
Like- "yeah that the shit!" but it ain't
I'm just saying since 2006
And you still sound like you ridin' Black Thought's dick
Counterfeit styles on some half off shit
Same cats wanna give my dap talk shit
Walk around the bar like they bought false tits (oh on)
You can light a Molotov of this
Arabs and robbers I chop off wrists
Hip Hop fanatics better run and call KRiS
If I see you on stage I'm a run and call- BLITZ!
[Chours]
I'll play and play and play and play some more
As no on ever played the drums before
At times I catch vibe and my rhymes so sick
Feeling like I could rip NAS like Chubb Rock did
On- To the Grill Again
Feel it in my fingers when I fill it in
Killin' 'em, because they only push pens to minimum
Please I give them what they've never seen
My style has wings more than syllables
Azeem make you fell the results
Super hand my minds a Hulk 10 years
Each fresher then the last one is
You can't catch-up unless you got a magical wrist
A mountain of coke and help from every rapper that lived in the biz
Cheers..
Ask you're friends who's the illest
On the mic niggas' screaming
"Ismail tried to kill us"
[Chours]

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