Clint Eastwood (Phi Life Cypher Version)

Yo. Yo. Yo.

'Cause I'm this- Gorillaz from the mist lyricist and my thoughts be twisted.
I spit the wickedest rhymes from a time that's never existed.
My futuristic linguistics turn fools into statistics
I'm a lyrical misfit
with a sadistic characteristics.
I perform murderous acts on my tracks with a single breath
and if a boy wanfa test, then I be stampin' upon his chest. Done makin' a mess
not a man could conceive the weed I'm consumin'
and I transform from my cartoon pseudonym, turn to a human.
I spit words from my mouth that be turnin' you inside out
and I tie knots in intestines just like I'm a boy scout that's workin' 'em out
Now rearrangin' your whole skeletal structure
then I find some nine inch nails to perform some acupuncture
When I punch ya
I rupture all of your ribcage in a rage
and I turn you into a cartoon too then erase the page
I take you back to the stone age with Barney and Fred Flintstone
Get Dino to take a machinos and then force you to live home

I'ma take off like a jet pack better get back, rather step back.
I'ma make the crowd react and nod they heads until they neck snap.
Life can flip raps
while riding a skateboard and doin' a tic-tac
and leave your head in a spin like staring at turn table skid mats.
I'm a concrete lion, big cat.
This is real talk, not big chat.
Did ya get that 'cause I ain't no small timer. I rhyme on big tracks.
Now feel the vibes I create. This heavyweight, I'm about to detonate
and demonstrate how I generate lyrics that supernaturally levitate
To the top my lyrics escalate,
Accelerate and leave you panickin',
Take the ground from beneath your feet, leave you Skywalk-in' like Anakin.
I'm sharper than the tips of Zulu spears and Olympic javelins.
My style is totally buck wild and most definitely happenin'.
To your brains I be tappin' in,
to computers I be hackin' in.
To me, I be out of this world like aliens who were time travelin'.
I'm dabblin' in the Fists of Fury technique when I speak.
Forget Karate Kid and these wooden blocks, I chop from concrete.
Concrete, concrete, concrete!
Wha-wha-well-well-wha-well!

I'be been stoned; ever since the days of creation,
I've been red.
I'm a mad dred, causin' so much havoc in Russel's head.
My lyracism is just like an aneurysm inside his brain.
He plays the beat in a trance and he's never feeling no pain.
I could never be a racist because I posess so many faces.
I'm one of those beat-up bad wit' bags and a pair of braces with lines longer than laces.
I'm gracin' you with my presence.
The lyrics went flippin', makin' ya bubble like effervescence.
I pulverize and bamboozle, shake numb skulls like a boodle.
I smashed the top of your head with a guitar I borrowed from Noodle.
I'm as animated as Japanese animes causin' callamities.
Some serious savory from my roarous rhymes of reality.
At the speed of sound, I'm runnin' around the clowns that tried to defeat us.
Without tenacities or audacity.
Don't you ever thought you could beat us.
Beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us,
beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us,
beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us...