DESCRIPTION:
Toronto artist Chris Price Rapper/Producer ---- Twitter @ChrisPriceMusic
Gmail : chrispricemusic@gmail.com


Feel the draft when i strut by...niggaz givin cruk eyes...
introduce the ounce, O-hi-O, buck eyes....
crack when I cut rhymes, say Im adur-rahman...
When i say im born in Saudi, How do ya fuck eye...
a nigga like Chris...
Wit Mo, Hip to offer, then a thick chick who like dick...
Thats Mo hip hop, N Mo and hypnotic...
cuz im bar servin, ya car swervin...I get atta...
ya way...i mean how to ya pray...
for a lil nigga sinnin so much, he be hotta then rays...
cuz son is so ill...Mellow as dude, when he was at Oakhill...
Pissin gatorade n drinkin propele...out a heinkien bottle...
things are mine again, swallow...
then confiding in, blue vitimans, to fuck hollow...
imma, product of the, how do ya, water a dead plant...
Took long enuff to find myself, surprised the feds cant?hanh...
Im still runnin, for rich rollin to hundreds, to spit colder n muddy then...
a rainy day, ayny-way....
I stayed masterin, plasterin new thoughts...
And why(N Y) would u do that? U questionin New york...
Torontos own, its home, im kinda zoned...
Colognes of marjauna, pon de barrel of my nose...
...thats why im flutterin high, butterin lines...
mutterin every one you, son of a neva mind......
to find everything I dreamed of...clapped up, cream dubs...
I aint even fuck wit a nurse but nigga I seen scrubs...
throwin around, disrespected...walk wit some disinfectent...
Went from a Robber, to Robert kelly wit pissin methods...
...Yellow shower the beat...the beef, I will defeat...
the feed-back is, you actually e-macculate...
Are u surprised tho...
I was listenin when Nas said, its all about soldier survival...
yea, i made'm look...changin up my maiden, hooked up wit will power...
got these haters eatin bait N cooked'M..up in a pot, mix it up wit the killa...
then i sprinkle my past, jus to show them the feelin...
yea im back, n im boomin, whom are you dudes to assume, that I bin slackin, n that africans, laughin u losers...dont even know, i bin grindin, rhymein, is everything Life...
How is you hatin my soul, but put ya faith into Christ...
U screamin O, but no i only put a 8th on the mic...
the other 7, im revvin, reverin im shakin despite...
psych, i aint trippin, a ribbit, get it , a carrat a jewel..
is what im spittin, im sick, sicken it, no i aint nuttered...
a dawg, yelllin out hooda hooda, its 2 in the morn...
Said I was smokin that budda, wit my buddapist john...
Hope u excusin my french, but this what I do to Croissants...
N u make out the lyrics they aint for u to kiss on...
bet u think dude is masonic...introduce u to phonix...
this is ron Jeremy mixed wit Jeremy ronic...
Fuck skatin, im here...till they chasin my lear...
wit a case of malaria...a malarianaire...
till im sick of being rich, n debating my fears...
turned pharaoe the aerodynamic damn it..
the heroin attics...annex....im steral, u mad...
u know im emphadic, abbat it...
flowin the baddest, how does it feel, when revealed...
Cuz this is fresh out the box, bitch im peelin the seal...
Ud think that heidi was wit me, Bobby, Im hidin the whitney...
Got me, pro-viding the vitiman white, riding, dividing the fifty...
five, a variety price...