Glastinary manticore raps say you've gone to warpaint I orchestrate tapes to torture fakes on your door dates And formulate, sound escapes the ground snakes in town lakes Heavy hammer swings pound fakes until the ground breaks Your foul tapes, I'm a rap since nineteen eighty-seven Twelve years of age grabing aids like [?] Yo I tear the stage and build a guild with dissection Strong willed and skilled and killed your whole dimension Henchmen, think they're paying dues off the head I'm sucking venom out of bites through deadly copperheads Your dead, because the venom's been regurgitated I've terminated every "Sucka Duck" that perpetrated Work related, cuz' mc is my profession Spittin when I rock a rhyme it's never written I keep em' off papers so there's no evidence To tie me to the murder of your rap regiments The body of your composition is what Shamus clutches Lyrics are the legs and the swares are your crutches When you battle me it'll be real clear That I'll leave cats alone watch their life in wheelchairs
When I say a rhyme (Sucka's I drop ya') Drain your blood line (Sucka's I drop ya') You'll be executed (Sucka's I drop ya') Learn from the druid (Cuz my words rock ya')
Seamus is the God-Awf, step to this kiddo My styles poisonous just like the Black Widow Ditto, facsimile your master copy Take you back to the lab your raps sound sloppy Those who want to battle the Teradactyl that's fatal I'm ripping up your rap crew but burning down your label Suffocating suckers like yourself is madd fun for me Tell your company Esoteric is triumphantly Terrorizing all these dictionary reading crabs Verbalist lyrical rap just ripped the track I'm back, to smack all the cats I crucified The council of kags, self-centered like a nuclei I'm in the wilderness trapped in a syllabus For each of these dummies that want me as their ventriloquist I'm killing this, consorting all my rap critics At a murder-rate of ninety-one beats per minute The body of your composition is what Shamus clutches Lyrics are the legs and the swares are your crutches When you battle me it'll be real clear That I'll leave cats alone watch their life in wheelchairs
When I say a rhyme (Sucka's I drop ya') Drain your blood line (Sucka's I drop ya') You'll be executed (Sucka's I drop ya') Learn from the druid (Cuz' my words rock ya')
Now hip-hop heads I have like ten on my shelf Make it twelve when I leave the simple-minded cat beside himself I watch all these so called mic-rippers Battle the Esoteric and get fed to wood-chippers Strip his, section add to my collection I toss a lot of foes in my crossbow's direction Press them up against a tree and watch the rat shiver Now it's time to pull another arrow from my quiver Deliver, a rapier to your trachea How I'm striking mics it's pysching out Vikings in Scandinavia Maybe a, apocalypse when God Awful rips I catch three frames a day like comic strips The body of your composition is what Shamus clucthes Lyrcis are the legs and the swares are your crutches When you battle me it'll be real clear That I'll leave cats alone watch their life in wheelchairs
When I say a rhyme (Sucka's I drop ya') Drain your blood line (Sucka's I drop ya') You'll be executed (Sucka's I drop ya') Learn from the druid (Cuz' my words rock ya')Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
