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broken language (freestyle) - chop lyrics

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i’m that – actor murderer, rapper burier
the mack that clap ya area, you soft as ‘lac interior
you n-ggas all chicken, raw salmonella carriers
you rap in cafeterias, i bomb like [?]
the mac-10, holdin’ straight, a dozer with quarter tank
basically, you short of fate, call the first 48
the rabbit at tortoise pace, with an avid act to fornicate
unmatched status with these b-tches, like a pimp that cannot coordinate
the f-ckin’ blind samurai witta sword that’s pointin’ for the face
the n-ggas that can’t correlate, that’s feelin’ somethin more than hate
the sub that make the floor end shake, the eq that distort the b-ss
the ed gein horror case, the f-ckin’ real norman bates
the macintosh, hackin’ blog, the after of a hatchet brawl
jason with his mask took off, the matrix that was half as long
your neck slashin’, use your head for practice, type of animal
the cannibal, set fire to aerosol, the biggest fan of saw
the fan appalled, the end of black swan which you can’t applaud
burglar in urban camouflage, a turret that shootin’ cannon b-lls
merrier with his hands cut off, heart purer than a enema
the all black trailer park, with all day sailor talk
the pen and paper, the pacific coast earthquaker
the sent creator, the stick it in holes, peg player
the death bed maker, the toe curler and leg shaker
movie maker, the hannah montana just turned eighteen impregnator
the s-x major, lone ranger that test nature
crime death taper, the maggoty flesh scr-per
the crackin’ from stress neighbor, that’s packin’ a tech flama
the back of the desk raider, the danger of six chambers
despite haters, the kid with the nice lay up
give her the pipe slayer, darth maul’s double edged lightsaber
the life savior, the dike breaker, an ice glacier
the piledriver, neck breaker, old-school flow, c-ssette player
[?]
your estranged lover callin’ from strange numbers, in a faint mumble
the game fumble from a slippery rain puddle
that abstained couple’s first time, with champagne bubbles
yung berg’s chain troubles, the sharpness of face stubble
the cage rumble rupture l-ster that’s punchin’ until sprained knuckles
i flame juggle, pillow frontly placed on the eight m-ffler
the inmate that hates chuckles, the smoke from watchin’ estates crumble
i hate takin’ sides, fresher than the scent of pine
that’s the second time i wrecked ‘em, my presence will mesmerize
i’mma zombie that could look alive, a gamble like the shook of die
i’mma geek with a block cosign, big and pac’s last goodbye

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