Mr. Potato perx

This is a fist talk
Are you ready to live hard?
Been years serving under the power of Caesars
Been broken and stoned with this damn cause
What a damn price can bring you a full clause
I'm a following sheep looking for my king lamb
Such a big cramp
Muscle needs a beat strap
Why you need to blap that ass that has been cracked
From this war and peace, encourage you like a pet-actor
Fella!I'm satisfyingly trying to break the rules
Because free love guides me to the main truth
I'm just rapping for my heavenly peace troops
They are freer as they go with a bulletproof
Borrowed mask, full cash, pay your tax
Pain, suffering, love, sex, disco, and dream palace
Caught up in the end by faceless bodies
Your court has started with a cranked balance

Mr. Potato... To take your land
Mr. Potato... To knock you down
Mr. Potato... To hear their sounds
Mr. Potato... with locked hands
Mr. Potato... To eat their trash
Mr. Potato... to fill their around
Mr. Potato... no 21 grams
They exactly wanted you to be their fan

Pass balls with the beast means fizzy pose
Hopelessly keep on knocking on the broken doors
Insultism not only in a race card
Been a slave-heart, shake tale for their naive thoughts
I'm in charge till you finally receive the truth
I can do it for you! But then what are you supposed to do?!

A brother told me not to use your fingers as a middle finger
When you fist'em, be away from the crew of perjurers
We'll stand and fight till we cross the line
If you won't hope to win, fella! Steadily trying
I spit hype on this pity rhyme
Feel like "Public Enemy" and living like 89
"Guerrilla funk" is still there
Can you see their sign?
Trying to be an inner rage
Don't be scared of frying
Leave those sorry boys' fans keep crying
Don't listen to their radio 'cause "DP" said it's lying

Mr. Potato... To take your land
Mr. Potato... To knock you down
Mr. Potato... To hear their sounds
Mr. Potato... with locked hands
Mr. Potato... To eat their trash
Mr. Potato... to fill their around
Mr. Potato... no 21 grams
They exactly wanted you to be their fan

Still ain't free
Act like I'm greedy
Like a noisy Buzz running on your PC
From Rasht to Washington DC
Dealing with the same shit hard to believe it
Keep rubbing, haters still mobbing
Don't know what you do, running by Ferrari
Money in their hands think we are looters
This is what we call the "new age of Harlem"
You must serve till the Jesus' coming
Better take a look at Jesus' commands
"Never sell your soul to a soulless alien"
Prophecy of rage and back to your real values
Whole coasts, demoniacal and mainstream
No matter what they call you on the big screen
They're Pharaohs, we're slaves of the same team
Boot signs on your face... hurt your feelings?!

Mr. Potato... To take your land
Mr. Potato... To knock you down
Mr. Potato... To hear their sounds
Mr. Potato... with locked hands
Mr. Potato... To eat their trash
Mr. Potato... to fill their around
Mr. Potato... no 21 grams
They exactly wanted you to be their fan