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Artist: Makeba Mooncycle
Album:  Throwback Classics
Song:   Mind, Body & Soul
Typed by: Cno Evil

[Makeba Mooncycle]
If you're not trying to build, why do I have to kill ya
With lyrics to kill, it's never been realer
Build the house of steel, versus sex appears
Shine like the Moon, flip my mood to doom
Hyper than a tab, got the gift of gab
Writer resurrected, traders beheaded
This beat's is regreted, competition gets deaded
What's the matter with my words, harsh to the nerves
Darts stay on lock, the traders get knocked
Spray ship fatigues, it's all about the me
With every emotion I breathe, not to squeeze
Tempted to release, hard to keep the peace
Bust only if frustration, elevate eliminating
Soon be penetrating, sugar coated segregating
To minds I'm stimulating, my lyrics amputated
So why are you waiting?

[Chorus: Makeba Mooncycle]
Makeba's on the mic, and you know I gets down
So come on party people, let's gather around
I'm here to rock your mind, to your body and soul
So come on party people, let's take control

[Makeba Mooncycle]
In the combation Gods, dismembered and disbared
Slit, I hit hard, surrounds me on God
The mother of your hawk, making hearts stop
For we ride to rock, I tracks like Pac
Keep it up non stop, bams til you drop
I aim to be the greatest, while others remain tasting
Some not creative, they lay with the haters
I gotta keep it moving, peep you while you grooving
I gaves you the must, let's keep it on the hush
Hush identification, a real M.C.
Keeping you moving from your head to your feet
Straight catch no meat, you chickens'll eat
Wave the white flag, yo, retreat, facing yo heat
Let's take it to the streets, no justice, no peace
No thoughts of defeat, casualties, don't delete, casualties, don't delete

[Chorus 2X]

[Makeba Mooncycle]
I want hear impressive lyrics and flows, no nursing
Nothing that your man wrote or you been rehearsing
My trick tricks all clid-icks, usually when I'm in it
Like the sign, multiplied, unified your pride
And your friends eat like LaTania McClide
They start shaking, and moving all around
Control your mental, and listen to the sounds
Touch me like a pita, the sound of Makeba
And the God penalty, I'm in, some suckas wanna get me
Peel me, beats are crispy, when I'm gone, you'll miss me, you know my history
Feel with no mystery, the sounds of black and never got polite
Smacked with another revelation, you know what I'm saying
While you busy doing what you told, give me that mic
You know you shouldn't even hold, all used up with no more chances
You better off doing all them table dances

[Chorus 4X]