Mental Politics chords by Candiria

SimplifiedG

GuitarPianoUkulele

Verse 1
G 
What happened to Grandpa?
He went over to the old hotel.
He was gonna kill him.
Instead they got him drunk.
He's not drunk, stupid.
He's been doped.
Huh?
That stuff that they call LSD.
The whole bunch take it.
What does it do,
that L -whatever you call it?
Boy, you really don't know anything.
It makes a person crazy.
Wow. That was dangerous, Grandpa.
Spittin' on tracks more
than spittin' on streets
Mental politic engaged with the rage,
that's so sweet
Enough deception,
so my hands close to my weapon
That's my pattern,
pen mines in the right direction
Mic's unblessin', lovely,
bubbly and a dime sack
Guaranteed when I'm done
with this track
I'm on a map dressed black
for some occasions
The stories be amazing
Might as well call me Johnny
cause I'm always blazin'
My brother's gettin' busted
Yo what's this?
My plan is to be a general
just like Custard
You're mustard and can't catch up,
so what is up?
Parlay with your girl
and stick my d**k up her butt
Call me Ted cuz I turn her
Mental politics, lalologist, mic murderers
Yo, comatose within mental politics
My notes stay encrypted
For those attempts to duplicate
multiple assaults inflicted
Lalologist apprehended
Charged, tried, and convicted
for this literal eruption
The sixth symphony
gets seduced by my corruption
Who in conduction?
Travel the third rail to find my function
I rupture and spontaneously
combust on this production
You need no more instruction
To the Amon tip vocalists
Who speak no heresy
Remain on point with a third optical
so they can't pervert me
Infect like disease to cause
musical dystrophy
Lyrically, voice no violence
but silence critically
Those who try to decipher my dialogue
and decompose their symmetry
Chemically, the scientifical equation
Prophecy, commencing of a thousand days
My maneuvers for deeper meditation
So deep, I telepathically
speak to my federation
Fully armed for combat,
comas execute in first contact
There's evil in the dark,
shadows with jumpstarts
Part of sea of lead rocks,
drop your eyes in the box
three walls stop my shot
a triangle of cops
the fourth pops unexpected
where's the next kid jump after me
and every masterpiece blasphemy
creeps trees for serenity entities
sleep retarded energy speaks sleep
over three miles of violent
keep my mutations neat atomic
one smiling disassembled
when i leave hiding in manhattan sleeve
i creep damn man turn to beast
police your sleep
nino bravo feast enter my atmosphere
defeat your son it's even deeper it's
more deeper than the stain
the twisted guilt
that hungers for the full laceration
Of the nigrogens
Taste the hidden fruit as evidence
So my lips all allow me to
flow and demonstrate
There's a holocaust of
ospora tongues effuring
The mental smoke is circling
You pull your strings I pull my weight
One of many verbal snipers
leaving scars up in your skin
No time to ventilate
So watch this coma
team spread and erupt
The stench I wreath within your gut
What is the fate?
Mental terrorists
The side effects of my horrors
Causing the images to persist
The coma click
The click of coma stamina
Verbal enema
The flow of sinister
The blazing tribe of deviants
Known for causing mad hysteria
No front, no doubt, no stressin'
Don't act all family
-questionin'
These questions tend to leave you
On your backside, no second guessing
The pedigree, let the fungus fertilize
The verbal process multiplies
My words lead concussions
Similar to sipping my cyanide
Decrease, decrease, decrease,
decrease, decrease
Your thought reduction
I promise your preference
Rain sounds like a shower
on the junction
That's a classic, things are drastic,
plastic man
Candy flips, trips, the casket class
Keep my verbal span
and say damn how unique
Cause I'm chic, me got my peak
When I tweet the endless walk,
I rock mental stamina talk
Fried rice, no pork, hawk,
I watch my entire fam slot squat
Very suspicious,
I'm vicious as the missus
No mistakes,
cause I'm crazy like Eddie Flakes
Two -headed snakes, they follow, no retreat
All around Satan's hollow,
I'm discreet, profound
As I sound like Houdini,
I'm well -connected
Grease, rockin' taquini,
taquini madman
Drummer Sandman, trash can
Like John Stagliano, I'm the super ass man
G 
I don't know if you hear
G 
G 
but then
G 
I'll see the out.
You