(Uncle Lupe)
Alright it’s time to go to sleep
(Hey Uncle Lupe)
What?
(Can you please tell us a bedtime story?)
Ugh, it’s late man
Okay, okay okay, check this out, listen
Cold killer, bold old gorilla
Bold as a font with the thickness
Old as yellow gold in a Chevrolet with a stick shift
The story goes his mother left him on a church step
First step was out the front door then the first left
Down the block to the spots where the worst kept
Thirty years later got a thirty tier caper
To shoot up the scene and scheme
Plot, broken all down to two rounds of scotch
A pound means now and we too down to stop
Say ya got enough round for two thousand cops
Military grade, these things shoot round the block
Shh threat, check
The dame will hang out like chains round the neck
He ever seen her before, her face don’t connect
No, so keep it on the low, go
Seizes her by the arm
Looks right into the eyes cause these be the charms
Sheba, King Tut suite at the Khalifa
Tied to a chair getting burned by cohibas
A well dressed thug who run clubs in the Koreas
The room smells like fresh hand made tortillas
He recognized the tattoos of a real big Maui brother
Known for bad news when his cash rules
Are you familiar with the shell of the cashews?
As he holds the needle up to the light bulb
White girls into drunk, he stands up runs to the window and jumps
Aim for the pool… splash
The impact from that almost split him in half
Voice from the past asks did he enjoy the bath
Laughs with his arm in a cast, hold up
Never what it seems, everybody wanna be seen
On the cover of a magazine
Everybody want big things
Everybody want big dreams
Everybody want bling bling
Everybody wanna be the king
Everybody bling
Everybody sings
Everybody wanna big thing
In the valley of kings and pyramid schemes
It’s never what it seems, everybody wanna be seen
On the cover of a magazine
Everybody wanna sip lean
Everybody want a big dreams
Everybody want bling bling
Everybody want C.R.E.A.M
Everybody wanna have a team
Everybody wanna be the king
Everybody want a big scheme in the land of pyramid schemes
As he tried to do the math with Smearcon the fed
The contract states from here upon your dead
The girl at the bar is an underworld star
Settling on debts with north Zanzibar
Your names on the list, kitsch
A hundred million dollars worth of high grade fish
Tuna, Tokyo cartels worlds biggest consumer
A rumor bout a schooner off the coast of Montezuma
They say you slit the throat of a well known kahuna
Then torched the boat and fled into the Dunya
You’re hated more than a Kalua pig at a Jumu’ah
They want your head on a platter, not right now but sooner
I got you a .45 and a Mitsubishi tuner
Wait, wait I’ve never been to Costa Rica
And then it all comes back
Just as Smearcon falls with a ninja star in his head like
Then they slowly enter the room
I grabbed a .45, the ninja stars resume
I catch him in the cast and answer them with a blast, blow
Three more shots for good measure
Only exit is another window, pfft whatever
Short fall to the roof of the car
Then I get in, left arm covered in ninja stars
Then a zero to a hundred baby real quick
Look around the car for something else to kill with
Lamborghini headlights in the rear view
These Parisian streets not meant to veer through
Especially with just one hand
I let go to shoot back but the gun jams
Mitsubishi not built to outrun Lambs
So they gaining, heavy raining
Rear view explodes from deadly aiming
Arm paining, blood draining
Pains, head for the Louvre
Drive right through the glass pyramid with dope moves
A little shook from the landing
Driving through the Louvre in a rally car with great handling
Was at the Mona Lisa
Stop the car right in front of the dealer have a breather
Press play on the radio, voice from the speaker
Says get to Belgrade and take an ad out in the daily Politika
They says for a good time call this Ecuador slash Venezuelan chica
Next day at the airport meeted by a greeter who looks Corsican but Greeker
A little older wearing Michael Jordan sneakers
But I follow the leader
1995 S Class, in the back seat is a dead man who’s car I just crashed
Smearcon’s alive, audience now wonders how Smearcon survived
Let alone not be hurt, he taps a metal plate in his head from his Afghanistan work
What Visine for red retinas, what else would you expect from head predators
Ex-lecturer, at Exeter, the dean too secular
So now I’m totes hecklers, everywhere
Now Smearcon’s on the team, so everybody’s down for the scheme
(The final chapter in the incredible [?] saga)
(Smearcon’s back!)
Now it’s time to finish this, getting too late for international syndicates
To which the driver reveals his membership
This won’t end well, he pulls out a grenade and says
(Damn you all to hell!)
(Wait, what happened? Uncle Lupe what’s going on?)
Go to sleep
(But what happened? I don’t understand)
Nope
(Please finish the story please)
Storytime’s over
You asked for a story I gave you one
Take it, just take it
(This is the worst bedtime story ever)
Bye
Psych sucker, Smearcon is back
You really think that he would go out like that?
They’re under attack, MAC under the back…
I’m just playing, it’s really over
Its the end of the tape
Thank y’all man
Pharaoh Height two thirty
Shout to DJ BUSY
You know how we do
Hope you all enjoyed it man
Scott what up
What you thought I couldn’t do this no more, huh?
Man listen, lets let this play out
Bogglin’ Giblets