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kan of whoop ass (teamsupreme x project blowed remix) - abstract rude lyrics

[verse 1: riddlore?]
i’m a blowedian but i’m trotting the globe as it spins
plotting my course down the road as it spins
outlaw from the wild west like i should be on horseback
gettin’ high in the saddle while i ride to the battle
gettin’ live like the ammo when the hammer strikes the pin
rhymin’ riddlore? strikes again
no water for your garden will have your pansies dying
for blowing it on the mic like dandelions

[verse 2: ellay khule]
grew up as a la kid, struggled through this cali culture
served em up by the ton so you know i kept a fatter quota
i am the master yoda but you in a bad position like yoga
puffin’ on some doja, crushing like a bulldozer
should have listened when i told ya, now i spit like a cobra
i’m ellay khule or rifleman so f-ck what they told ya
general from the life or the blowed when i’m on that hip hop kclan sh-t
good life bullies are the crews that i ran with

[verse 3: shames worthy]
name’s shames worthy but you probably know raphi
from the good life or blowed from the early years i suppose
that’s where i paid dues, before my crew made moves
it was all about the stylin’ and servin’ fools
i wrote my first raps on pico & fairfax
linked up with the lpg and started the tunnel rats
some other cats would laugh we made our own path
i’m a shooting star travel so far with an 8 bar paragraph

[verse 4: gel roc]
original gel roc, life seen differently
ex2, don’t forget m-ss minsitry
underground rap kings yes the epitome
if y’all don’t know, this yo epiphany
no future in yo’ frontin’ when you recognize history
villains no sympathy, never been busier
the output is linear, my outlook is grittier
from lm to whittier, y’all just sh-ttier

[verse 5: jroz]
they see me on the street and they go
“jroz i remember you back from the blowed
spittin’ in the cypher twisting up a optimo
piecing in my black book so when’s your next show?”
tell em go check the website, might catch the next flight
keep the text at the pen write tight like left right
sleep on abstract, that’s a rude awakening
my dude’s home weighing things i’m doing my lady things

[verse 6: brandi kane]
super california-istic super collab
super sick with it, who is this chick? who is that?
it’s them project blowedians, act like you know me b-tch
shout out to them flows we kick and the out of town shows we did
and all them mc’s murdered that don’t exist
resting in they own p-ss, yeah go on poor a sip
they done forget the pump at your front door
now you unsure blood clot, they don’t want more

[verse 7: jizzm]
we’re ancient alien b-boys transforming into dinosaur mode
abstract underground fossils you can find us at the blowed
heating mc’s up, heating up when times are so cold
leading them up, eating them up machete slice em with a flow
we stay ready, they all deadly illosophic merciless medley
is holding steady, life’s too short to sweat the petty
the throne was heavy, wimpy whip a can out don’t ask me for a handout
like herpes on your thumb and you can stand out

[verse 8: self jupiter]
cadillac coupe deville em, been chillin like a villain since “top billin'”
that “hippy to the hippy the hop” feeling
k!ll em off, convertible soft ceiling
morbidly obese black matt dillon
when i tell you i’m one of the best that ever did it, i’m not kiddin’
shocks go a little bit lower when i get in where i fit in grinning
prince fielder on the mic in the 9th inning
i walk off homie cause i like winning

[verse 9: zumbi]
d-mn where’s my heart at, where did i leave it?
they call me constant can’t f-cking believe it
or maybe it’s nonsense, i’m being facetious
puffin’ the reefer still stuck in the speaker
deeming me conscious marvelous content
looking in the mirror can’t see if you haunted
i’m after marcus, still chucking a ohm bustin’ a poem
and long after i’m gone i’m still moving the moon
sun and the stars, that’s who we are
when i’m blessing a bar, my squad rep for god
peace to the earths, seeking a birth
that’s why i’m speaking in verse of what you feel is church

[verse 10: myka 9]
it’s all love it’s my mantra, my vocal merkabah
my choke hold hurts robbers, i told all of my obsessed
hype show at my concerts like you info sponsored
so when you go bonkers off this song then bomb first
i thirst for the unrehe-rs-d verse that conquered
the warmonger found armor from the dalai lama
the dilemma that became our delivery i foundered
then i burn like the 23rd psalm, word to my mama
i’m stronger more harm than hood who’s good living
so i stood in prison i should listen to the good book written
let wings emerge like birds sh-ttin’
saint myka, rhyme archangel splittin’
this trans dimensional veil of the game hittin’ from ballers
like badminton all hail radio good life, project blowed
these mc’s that been bitten but they gotta feed they children
listen

[verse 11: medusa]
how can i squeeze it all in?
before i was medusa with the hot d-mn pen
they call me lady tick tuck for my pop locking
breakin’ one radiotron, groove-o-tron, et cetera
not being c-cky, but i only have 8 bars for moving on
stepped from a cage s.i.n. to the good life stage
and stranger inside is the film you can catch me on
project blowed icon
on the bra strap many of these broads done dangled from
and got a grammy with ozomatli to show you the type of sh-t i’m on
you seen me, rocking stage, dropping jewels for your seedlings
need i go on?

- abstract rude lyrics

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