Unlock the door. Stop it y'all, y'all acting like my shit isn't as raw as the n***a who was Gothic before he met all of y'all. Well, I'm Gothic more before I decided to chomp on the floor. Hmm, would y'all understand what that metaphor meant? If not, metaphor heaven, yeah, it's sent. E-mail to the darkest bitch in the biz, and for somehow Charles is the bitch in the biz. Y'all should just listen to this. If I say "bitch" that's the darkest shit you could get. N***as will never understand my parking shit, or my metaphor for parking, until they're all in the whip getting high, sparking a spliff and they realize the park is the darkest place you could ever drift in. Listen, I really mean it: Tori, you really need some penis. If not, you really need to say the kid's a genius. If not, don't listen to hip-hip and eat clit. Fucking sick of Starchasers. Y'all want to see Charles getting paper? Fine. Y'all n***as don't know what a star is to chase it. So y'all are still following the basics. Swallowing/following. Fuck a mistake, bitch. Say what I want to say. Until then I'm the greatest. Hate it because, Dilla, this beat still break the pavement. God damn, it