Food For Mic Skills lyrics

Artist  : Gym Class Heroes 
Song : Food For Mic Skills
 
Travis been known to spit lyrical backflips on
tracks with skate kicks

Osiris had the flyest but I'm all about Axion,
Verbal bigspin

I Crooked grind your melon for not listenin',

I'm beyond regular, you stuck in fakie
position

The funny thing is I don't skate but I'll deflate
your whole ego

Manipulate your face and replace it with
something uglier than

The product of Sha-nae-nae and Patrick Ewing
havin' a baby

(Damn Travis you crazy) Nah just a little
misunderstood

I got the planet in confusion, for the simple
fact my vocabulary lacks the word losin'

Contusions are placed across the bodies of any
challengers

I'll leave my mark then disappear like J.D.
Salinger,

As whack emcee's continue scuffin' their
knees,

Suckin' the dicks of A&R's just to get their
platinum chains and cars,

I'ma keep on doin' my thing,

Broke as Macy Gray would be with a regular voice
trying to sing,

Who wanna bring it to these Crab Apple
affiliates,

Act silly and you'll get split down the middle
like a Philly gets,

I've had enough of all these silent menaces,

I'm for peace but you'll get quickly deceased
with violent sentences,

The only witnesses will be later notified to come
identify the dental records of a kid offended
mine,

you ain't a friend of mine so I suggest you call
me Mr. McCoy

Hot shit will burn and blister you boy



We manifest through tape decks and prisma colored
markers,

Invade your space like feathers from down
parka's,

We legends in our own times and every rhyme is
living proof,

We drinkin' forty's from the fountain of
youth,

And when we done we're pissin' innocence,

Cause in a sense, everything your mouth dispense
don't necessarily pay the rent

Or the phone bills, you can't trade food for mic
skills,

But if you could I'd be eating lovely, believe
me.



Travis McCoy be like the influenza, flow
sick,

These other rappers on some old common cold
(SHHH),

I'm sicker than that, and plus you always suck
(YECK) quicker than that,

And H20 aqua we be thicker than that, and if
at

Anytime shit gets to hard to handle I'm going out
raw,

Chainsaw and all like Bruce Cambell,

Steppin' out the darkness with an army of
creeps,

Caffeine ain't allowin' Travis to get no
sleep,

Cause cat's speak soft, and quick to front hard
like Charles Bronson,

Shoutin' out Brooklyn, knowin' that they from
Wisconsin,

That's why I'm always concentratin' when I'm
puffin' cheeba,

We down with New York State and the city of
Geneva,

G-Town's my residence that's where I stack my
dead presidents,

And in my mind it ain't no time for irrelevance,
come on now

I thought you knew better, my rhymes are nines
and my mouth's a lyrical berretta

But better...YET...I make you Sweat like
Keith,

And have your whole crew fallin' out like rotten
teeth.



We manifest through tape decks and prisma colored
markers,

Invade your space like feathers from down
parka's,

We legends in our own times and every rhyme is
living proof,

We drinkin' forty's from the fountain of
youth,

And when we done we're pissin' innocence,

Cause in a sense, everything your mouth dispense
don't necessarily pay the rent

Or the phone bills, you can't trade food for mic
skills,

But if you could I'd be eating lovely, believe
me.



Who start it like us, rip a part it like us,

who you know jump on the stage and get retarded
like us?

Who start it like us, rip a part it like us,

who you know jump on the stage and get retarded
like us?

Who start it like us, rip a part it like us,

who you know jump on the stage and get retarded
like us?

Who start it like us, rip a part it like us,

who you know jump on the stage and get retarded
like us?

GCH will make it happen regardless of the
element,

From breakdancing, beats, graffiti shit, to
straight rappin',

Who got your mama's hands clappin'?

Zappin' cats like the third rail, these rappers
soundin' sweet over stale ass beats,

Come on get serious, you're making me furious
with these lame clich?s and whack hooks

Oh you ain't feelin' me? I'll beat you to death
with black books,

Now that I got your undivided, you got a mic? You
better hide it,

I'm creepin' six deep with seven swords of drunk
pirates

With eye patches, no teeth and burnt eye
lashes,

so they don't sleep and stay dodgin' car
crashes,

I'll smash your pride like a star that just got
his fame stolen,

Bash you with a mic so hard I'll leave your name
swollen,

Cut to the chase I'll just get to the point
first, cause frankly

You're shit is worse than Fred Durst's best
verse,

AND(AND)IT'S(IT'S)LIKE(LIKE)THAT(THAT)



We manifest through tape decks and prisma colored
markers,

Invade your space like feathers from down
parka's,

We legends in our own times and every rhyme is
living proof,

We drinkin' forty's from the fountain of
youth,

And when we done we're pissin' innocence,

Cause in a sense, everything your mouth dispense
don't necessarily pay the rent

Or the phone bills, you can't trade food for mic
skills,

But if you could I'd be eating lovely, believe
me.