Not Messin' - Dispatch

It’s as if the fore fathers

Gonna trade it for a piece

They can lick the wound slow

Like they’re from the northeast

They resist I’m going easy

Bankin on the hearsay

But they all know the man with the co-pay

Mixed up in the mid, they get the high to low rap

Its a tight rope, til the rope goes slack

It’ll blow your mind, but it don’t get you around,

I ain’t messin' around.

I ain’t messin' around.

So I got my gold parachute

Turn one more left turn

With my chloroform and a monet

'fore we can take a long ride down the narrow drive

And keep ya head down, yeah

They come and jump in

Now may I ask to who you reach all the money so I

Don’t sell the van

Can’t find my,

Can’t find my cat’s got nine times

So let the poochie on the record and ya got 'em on the messin around

Can we do a re-vote

Backed by hard-earned job

It’s hard to get to things of my own

As if I don’t think, think, thinkin up and sippin on the world

He was lookin from the top look out

Say preach,

Buy them treats, and this guy he prayed

Father told them pick them on the fallen tree

Father picked them off the top

And so we’re getting caught up in the mountain,

Still no pay check.

To be found

I ain’t messin' around

Are ya sorted?

Are ya sound?

Are ya sound?

Are ya sound?

Are ya sorted?