Muscle Head
The Alchemist
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Lyrics
You were talking about Griffin's friends. Did you know
Them? Did he call any of them by name or a nickname?
No, I'm sure he didn't. In fact, he made
Quite a point of not introducing them
Was there a snapshot of him?
I didn't like him that well
But you may have a picture
I said you may have a picture in your files
All I can be, all eyes on me, four minus three
Hands on the wheel, search for record, C minor key
Violent speed, when you see me, don't acknowledge me
Worthless, your disc is on sale at a Dollar Tree
Purchased on a discount, steak and eggs, Mel's Diner
Burn rubber, melt tire, scat packs, hellfire
Do dirt, get washed clean, left on green, then stepped off scene
They call me Jimmy Spice, I'm putting pepper on things
Dracula jacket, fishtail, I'm dragging leather on the street
They can't fuck with me, I go against whoever on the beat
Stretch my body out in the Maybach, I got leverage on the seat
Don't make me turn into Louis Fabregno
I'm making hard rock jams, your music is disco
Bubbling with crude oil, don't confuse it with Crisco
Nice to meet you, I introduce myself with a fist throw
My calf muscles in a flex position
The last V I purchased already reimbursed
Wait 'til you see the next edition
Exact decisions, I'm the thing that your necklace isn't
Look, I'll show you the opposite of how I play the cool
Before I lit a match, I went and laid the fuel
The attitude is raging bull and heat from a brazen bull
Mechanical crane, I'm talking major pull
Magneto mixed with Paid in Full and y'all can play the fool
Everything is one of one, that means it's custom done
Coming from a one-stop shop, soon as I chop, it's done
That's the sound of my money machine
And the sound of that ivory key made its way in like Kenan
Major sitcom, sketches to entertain
The sign on your face reads it's free real estate inside your brain
In a tiny house to party, now picture you in the frame
I turn that bitch into a hoarder's crib and ruin everything
Bad investments, but I bet you knew the call
Then put everything into it and all you got was a bullet ball
Like skydiving, not pulling the string at all
That's a suicide, it's a suicide
I seen 'em all slipping, their careers gripping
On rocky edges like villains in cliffhanger
And then they fall off after they shot off their big banger
I guess the stars never lined up so you don't get famous
Just keep playing the role in front of the script makers