Terror Wrist

All my friends are black, but my wives are white

All the syrup in my slice, more ice than a Klondike, bar

I see stars, I see minijatwa's

My car landed in on Mars, my hash cigar

Looks darker than tar, darker than an abyss

Darker than a midnight fist, darker than a black hole mixed

With a galaxy gap, ducked off in a safe duct tape to an Arabian stick shift

I don't have a fever, but my flows are sick

In my parking spot, I'm in the parking lot, in public

My bank account accumulates money quick

My bank accounted speaks Arabic, nothing to play

Your number's already been erased, nothing to say

I'm sitting sideways at a Chinese buffet

Swinging through Saint Tropez, I done poured a four in my cherry marmalade

Riff