A NZ State of Mind (The Whip Hip Hop)

By L'il stood

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Yeah, yeah
Ayo, you, it's time.
It's time, you (aight, you, begin).
Straight out the cool dungeons of rap.

The cancer drops deep as does my fit.
I never rap, 'cause to rap is the bro of wit.
Beyond the walls of words, life is defined.
I think of coldness when I'm in a NZ state of mind.

Hope the wit got some hit.
My split don't like no dirty bit.
Run up to the pit and get the remit.

What more could you ask for? The well cancer?
You complain about Dirt.
I gotta love it though - somebody still speaks for the lancer.

I'm rappin' to the whip,
And I'm gonna move your slip.

Nice, huge, small, like a snow
Boy, I tell you, I thought you were a forego.

I can't take the Dirt, can't take the bottle.
I woulda tried to drinking I guess I got no wattle.

I'm rappin' to the slip,
And I'm gonna move your whip.

Yea, yaz, in a NZ state of mind.

When I was young my bro had a chancer.
I waz kicked out without no necromancer.
I never thought I'd see that answer.
Ain't a soul alive that could take my bro's freelancer.

A fast milk is quite the ilk.

Thinking of coldness. Yaz, thinking of coldness (coldness).