DESCRIPTION:
Scotty Hard - The Return of Kill Dog E
Word Sound

Tried to decipher the lyrics- Let me know if you find any mistakes, I know there are some

I break rhythm over the track, escapism/
I shape living sound in the form of majestic temple/
You press your temple, indent your dimple/
I dampen spirits dabbling doubling cuppets and puppets perpetually are perplexed by/
Thereby the lines produce at perplexes to the connecting tissue through misuse/
If you seek the punchline MC these nuts await you/
I don't hate you, I loathe you, I abhor you,/
You adore the two of four our literature is splendid 'til it's ended.

Lottia fallin off like gotti da/
I splash through ya mardi gras/
Come off like La Guardia/
While MC's straight poppin out the joint like weed seeds/
These creeds leave leaves off trees/
Blow ya wig back like some bee gees/
See me, 3D, in the breeze freeze bees like lees in '83/
360 degrees blessed theses, fuck ya flossin/
I leave you froze in the motha fuckin air like deer crossin/
You can wait on lines at club lands, dream on a star/
I'll be bubblin doublin mumblin speech in my sleep/
Defocus the dopest opus black sofas on couches hypnosis/
My 8 hour doses of focus is pure raw/
Fuck around, saw through a desert floor unlock a dinosaur/
Jaw on tour

Glazed, Bubble in the haze, dazed x2

Through a black hole gash, red ash from a tobacco/
Leaf low the street whole fecal people seek old/
Fables leaking out of his wig in red puddles/
The dead huddled cuddled by fire worshippin fiction/
Red light district picture garter belt and broken dreams/
Anatomical improbability killin me softly then I splash/
A crumpled 20, I'm one of many catching feelings like/
"Why are you doing this? You're so beautiful..."/
A born cynic, a torn picture, I'm long distance/
I'm no different but I'm gassed by her amazing/
Serpentine back structure, 17th day Adventist/
Enter where you exit epicurus pit ya epidural neurological map autical/
There's no communism, fuck a sad story where's my money at?/
Cliché these days nothings shocking

The rain stopped, cops was docked
Like a yacht on block that didn't front the smoke shop/
I hopped in a gypsy, simply didn't quickly/
1460 new lots by dumat, I got to the spot/
No one was home, low battery on my phone/
In the zone I roamed, saw some clones dippin in chrome/
They got blown/
Sucked in my gun is a specimen, bagged/
Back to lab Woop! Crabs....