Mr. Potato

This is a fist talk Are you ready to live hard? Been years serving under the power of Caesars Been broken and stoned with this damn cause What a damn price can bring you a full clause I'm a following sheep looking for my king lamb Such a big cramp Muscle needs a beat strap Why you need to blap that ass that has been cracked From this war and peace, encourage you like a pet-actor Fella!I'm satisfyingly trying to break the rules Because free love guides me to the main truth I'm just rapping for my heavenly peace troops They are freer as they go with a bulletproof Borrowed mask, full cash, pay your tax Pain, suffering, love, sex, disco, and dream palace Caught up in the end by faceless bodies Your court has started with a cranked balance Mr. Potato... To take your land Mr. Potato... To knock you down Mr. Potato... To hear their sounds Mr. Potato... with locked hands Mr. Potato... To eat their trash Mr. Potato... to fill their around Mr. Potato... no 21 grams They exactly wanted you to be their fan Pass balls with the beast means fizzy pose Hopelessly keep on knocking on the broken doors Insultism not only in a race card Been a slave-heart, shake tale for their naive thoughts I'm in charge till you finally receive the truth I can do it for you! But then what are you supposed to do?! A brother told me not to use your fingers as a middle finger When you fist'em, be away from the crew of perjurers We'll stand and fight till we cross the line If you won't hope to win, fella! Steadily trying I spit hype on this pity rhyme Feel like "Public Enemy" and living like 89 "Guerrilla funk" is still there Can you see their sign? Trying to be an inner rage Don't be scared of frying Leave those sorry boys' fans keep crying Don't listen to their radio 'cause "DP" said it's lying Mr. Potato... To take your land Mr. Potato... To knock you down Mr. Potato... To hear their sounds Mr. Potato... with locked hands Mr. Potato... To eat their trash Mr. Potato... to fill their around Mr. Potato... no 21 grams They exactly wanted you to be their fan Still ain't free Act like I'm greedy Like a noisy Buzz running on your PC From Rasht to Washington DC Dealing with the same shit hard to believe it Keep rubbing, haters still mobbing Don't know what you do, running by Ferrari Money in their hands think we are looters This is what we call the "new age of Harlem" You must serve till the Jesus' coming Better take a look at Jesus' commands "Never sell your soul to a soulless alien" Prophecy of rage and back to your real values Whole coasts, demoniacal and mainstream No matter what they call you on the big screen They're Pharaohs, we're slaves of the same team Boot signs on your face... hurt your feelings?! Mr. Potato... To take your land Mr. Potato... To knock you down Mr. Potato... To hear their sounds Mr. Potato... with locked hands Mr. Potato... To eat their trash Mr. Potato... to fill their around Mr. Potato... no 21 grams They exactly wanted you to be their fan