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hold your horses 'cause I'm
riding in porches I'm fortified fiber optic portions
of a fortune abortion via pen born again I'm me
again needles and 360 spins sick of living in sin
that's the name you can't hang
when I spit this lyrical game rip the chain off
your neck make you suffer in pain it's a shame you
ain't gained all the glory and fame but beside yourself
there's nowhere else to put the blame you can't
maintain
hold your horses cause I'm riding
in porches of course the course is courseless forces
forced torso and more so sober super uber loser
laser battle cruisers with razors a savior behavior
is danger angel anger strangle strangers in mangers
rip the track to pieces best
to follow my thesis best believe when I spit it
it's hard enough to make you speechless I'm champaign
you're just feces annihilate your whole species
of wackness you're mistaken if you're thinking it's
peace and peachy please believe me
phony shitty my G.Gordon Liddy's
midi idiot he spit the shitty shotty spotty they
got me commies and zombies in the lobby probably
mob me all sloppy a copy cabin tabernacles to crack
hoes and heckles shackle
I'm popping wheelies in porches
I'm trailblazing new courses and riding horses like
look alike Chuck Norris's I'm flooring this barely
missing guard rails when all else fails I'll skip
details and make rash decisions set forth on suicidal
missions
hold your horses cause we're
rolling in force of course coercion is the reason
that we heathens need source I write supply you
fake demand the type to buy paint can spray tan
and then I know your front's a show there's nothing
to your skit intro ho
I'm seeing trails and visions
stuck in a prism a prison of my own doing left brewing
stewing the hates consuming my every thought it's
all I got to pull myself through this like a terrorist
who will always miss my failure's my undoing
king kung fu I keep a rule like
Aku evil no dispute can't refute there's no 2 equal
to we music makers rhyme embracers herbal enhancers
verbal dancers oral debaters aura vibrators we cater
hot
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This beat is from my printer.
Ok, the drums are drums but everything else is my
printer. I changed very little from what it actually
sounds like.
This beat has 5 people rhyming on it, everyone but
ill ben has 2 verses and it's only 2:46 seconds
long.
On the change into the next song I used some shit
I recorded when I was going around Chicago with
a minidisc recorder and a mic (shure SM 57), I think
it's the underground Clark and Lake stop.
Featured on this track is ill ben's brother, joe
cool (a.k.a. g.i. pro, willie clean, b.m.o.c.).
He is autonomous from ill ben, he is his own entity
as opposed to an extension of his older brother
but he is, in fact, ill ben's younger brother. Joe
cool is only 15, he was 14 when he spit on this
track.
by illiamson III
Why all the talk of riding in porche's and horses?
While thinking of possible themes/ideas for this
mega-star studded track, I brainstormed the line:
"hold your horses 'cause I'm riding in porche's".
And the rest is track history, blokes. For no real
reason, we decided that everyone should start thier
verses with that line. We're just gay like that.
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