Five Fingers

take take, the medicine tastes great, got the key to the city iʼm wake bake,
way before the media shitting or 12 zip of ganked paint, the origin of a thievery
leader would take place, 2 coke bottles adorn the rogue toddler, grapple
a refrigerator, gaffle a nilla wafer, and no role model provoke him to shift
focus, cuz he notice that a cookie tastes better when itʼs stolen, kids got
the darndest quirks, 11ʼs arm skip jars for his mommaʼs purse and bought
enough fireworks from the bullies to blow up a small barn which he kept in a
box in the yard, and the bark isnʼt carved from a clepto anthem, but a clepto
tangent preface the grand canvas, dance to the dirge, stand up, celebrate the
natural need to own what ainʼt earned, own what ainʼt earned, see it rolls off
a tongue like a smoke ring rolls off a lung ʻtil itʼs done, ready set, kept petty
theft on a post-it , later apply the motives to a moment on some grown shit,
hey, you with the sharpe and BM did you foreplay the G.M. or you carpe the
diem? whore play the porn game fornicate the sure way to freedom? or correlate
with the sword play and heathens? trickery and back-talk fresh out of
high school on the prickly catwalk of the modern grind slide rule, every last
number in his history got itʼs own little hustle to nuzzle up with the victory,
thanks, bathe in a bottle of your finest, tackleberrys sift through the piss
looking for diamonds, before the hell appears to put the chemi in the climate,
get your money from the richest get your pussy from the flyest.
slow and low, do or die calm, suicide king in the tuck of the palm
slow and low, do or die stuck, two to five cans in the tuck of the trunk
and these are the five fingers that are stealing from you,
and these are the five fingers that are stealing from you,
and these are the five fingers that are stealing from you...
one by one like little confused penguins, larceny
ʼs yes-men ooze for used weapons like a
bitter little burglar jaded up out the bucket seat
is dumb enough to feel like the public owe him
a fucking thing, nope, gotta configure the five
finger so the hot-wired vehicular skill is applicable,
if an eyeʼs on the prize and the itch ainʼt
flushed, i hope the fruits of your labor outlive the
initial rush like hey! step on the abysmal cusp
with matchmakers trying to make the mixed signals
fuck, then incubate the mutt baby through
his stigmaʼs crutch, now he will learn to walk
after he lifts the drums, and this is certified milk
by the new york department of skullduggery,
shoplift quicker than your shutter-speed, click,
missed, he dipped with dumb cutlery, in and out
of muddy river water ʻtil the rutter bleed, skip
around the money pillar, color me bunny killer
hovering wear the mother feed, gutter greed king
out a crummy motherfucker breed, fuck with me,
it go knock knock rummy at a bruckner speed,
the seedʼs all grownsed up playing grown people
games, evil aims grown, encompass the whole
steeple chase, grip, mitigate the master plan, so
when the workers are asleep the riffraff expands,
and yes a pig is a cop, but gotta fill up the flock,
so when i rake in the bacon i hope the kiddies
will watch, i hope the flipping of the system will
be heavily clocked, cuz opportunityʼs fickle, after
it trickle it stop, capture the flag, drag that crass
little bastard flat through the haz-mat and glass,
laugh when he ask for it back, scratch that, welcome
to the magic in a basket of cash