Figaro (madlib's Stones Throw 101 Remix)

The rest is empty with no brain but the clever nerd

The best emcee with no chain ya ever heard

Take it from the Tec-9 holder

They bit and don't know the next sign from Shyanola

Everything that coulda ain't this scale

Let me think, don't let a faint get Ishmael

A shot of Jack got her back it's not an act stack

Forgot about the cackalack, holla back, clack clack blocka

Villainy, feel him in ya heart chakra chart toppa

Star shit stoppa be a smart shoppa

Shot a cop day around the way 'bout to stay

But who'd a know there's two mo' that wonder where the shooter go

'Bout to jet, get him, not a bet, dead 'em

Let 'em spit venom said 'em got a lot of shit with 'em

Let the rhythm hit 'em, it's stronger in the other voice

We make the joints that make 'em spread 'em butta moist

Man, please, the stage is made of panties

From the age of baby hooches on to the grannies

Ban me the dough rake, daddy

The flow make her fatty shake, patty cake, patty cake

For fake, if he was Anita Baker's man

He'd take her for her masters, hit it once an' shake her hand

On some ol' thank ya ma'am an' ghost her

She could mind the toaster if she sign the poster

A whole host of roller coaster riders

Not enough tracks, hot enuff black

It's too hot to handle, you got blue sandals

Who shot ya? Who got you new spots to vandal?

Do not stand still, both show skills

Close but no crills, toast for po' ills, post no bills

Coast to coast Joe Shmoes flows ill, go chill

Not supposed to overdose, no doz pills

Off sides like how work rides with Starfleet

Off pride like now talk wide though scar meat

Told ya, on some get rich shit

As he get older he gets colder than a witches tit

This is it, make no mistakes, where my nigga go? Figaro, Figaro