This song seemingly tackles the methods of deception those who manipulate others use to get victims to follow their demands, as well as diverting attention away from important issues. They'll also use it as a means to convince people to hate or kill others by pretending acts of terrorism were committed by the enemy when the acts themselves were done by the masters of control to promote discrimination and hate. It also reinforces the idea that these manipulative forces operate in various locations, infiltrating everyday life without detection, and propagate any and everywhere.
In general, it highlights the danger of hidden agendas, manipulation, and distraction, serving as a critique of those who exploit chaos and confusion to control and gain power, depicting a cautionary tale against falling into their traps. It encourages us to question the narratives presented to us and remain vigilant against manipulation in various parts of society.
Hot sex on a platter
Hey yo, who want to pull on Phifer long time no hear from
Suckers walkin' around talking about they could get some
But that pop is non cypher, no can do
And if you think I'm a dope, then ask the other crew
And I proceed to let you know, exactly how to flow
I'm not Lawn Doctor so just step off with the hoe
Oops my mistake I didn't know you went with her
Should I run down the line of the all the kids that done hit her
Don't be bitter, I hear that honey resembles a critter
I heard she likes to do one-one my man John Ritter
But back to the subject you can't catch wreck
You must get respect, to earn respect
Suckers think they could herb me 'cause know I where specks
You're full of jokes, but you your name ain't flex
I got the riches, the bitches, I'm large like a Huxtable
You think you're all that but you're girl's quite doable
Yeah, I'm tellin' you G, to back up off me
I'm not a mad cohort, but I'm not Mr. Softee
Rappin' is an art, coming straight from the heart
So forget the chart because the action can start
Hot sex on a platter
Where ya at? To all my peoples with the funk
I'm the undercover brother dump your hoe in the trunk
Save all the sad songs and the tearjerkers
Niggas step up it's the lyrical worker
The poems that I create ain't in paper back books
The poems that I create are for hookers and the crooks
My mental is excelling cause I dabble in the books
I'm not the one to front on, so suboops-suboops
Yo, I gets the pickens, I'm such a damn Dickens
If you step to this then the plot just thickens
I'll run you around the track like a bunny and a dog
To me, your just another MC on the log
A link on the chain, fluid on the brain
I boast of hype lyrics, and yours are mardane
See I can't maintain, especially if you come back
I'm the lyrical master blaster, yeah I can do that
I can also do your girl, so leave the hoe at home
'Cause when I get done, I'll have her strung on bones
It's the no-joke pressure, that elevates my mind
Makes me pick up and go when it's time to drop a rhyme
My title is locked, the Abstract poetic
I'm in the idle mode but my energy's kinetic
So smooth and debonair, especially for the ear
Gotta keep my thing in gear 'cause it's evident and clear
That I will rock, rock, rock
Hot sex on a platter
Hey yo, who want to pull on Phifer long time no hear from
Suckers walkin' around talking about they could get some
But that pop is non cypher, no can do
And if you think I'm a dope, then ask the other crew
And I proceed to let you know, exactly how to flow
I'm not Lawn Doctor so just step off with the hoe
Oops my mistake I didn't know you went with her
Should I run down the line of the all the kids that done hit her
Don't be bitter, I hear that honey resembles a critter
I heard she likes to do one-one my man John Ritter
But back to the subject you can't catch wreck
You must get respect, to earn respect
Suckers think they could herb me 'cause know I where specks
You're full of jokes, but you your name ain't flex
I got the riches, the bitches, I'm large like a Huxtable
You think you're all that but you're girl's quite doable
Yeah, I'm tellin' you G, to back up off me
I'm not a mad cohort, but I'm not Mr. Softee
Rappin' is an art, coming straight from the heart
So forget the chart because the action can start
Hot sex on a platter
Where ya at? To all my peoples with the funk
I'm the undercover brother dump your hoe in the trunk
Save all the sad songs and the tearjerkers
Niggas step up it's the lyrical worker
The poems that I create ain't in paper back books
The poems that I create are for hookers and the crooks
My mental is excelling cause I dabble in the books
I'm not the one to front on, so suboops-suboops
Yo, I gets the pickens, I'm such a damn Dickens
If you step to this then the plot just thickens
I'll run you around the track like a bunny and a dog
To me, your just another MC on the log
A link on the chain, fluid on the brain
I boast of hype lyrics, and yours are mardane
See I can't maintain, especially if you come back
I'm the lyrical master blaster, yeah I can do that
I can also do your girl, so leave the hoe at home
'Cause when I get done, I'll have her strung on bones
It's the no-joke pressure, that elevates my mind
Makes me pick up and go when it's time to drop a rhyme
My title is locked, the Abstract poetic
I'm in the idle mode but my energy's kinetic
So smooth and debonair, especially for the ear
Gotta keep my thing in gear 'cause it's evident and clear
That I will rock, rock, rock
Hot sex on a platter
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