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high - hyperaptive lyrics

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verse 1:

the fans are like “where you been at?”
i’ve been in the lab planning cl-ssics man relax
cooking beats and bars to put my name on the map
like i was doing for years before anyone even gave a cr-p!
now every time i rap
it’s a full throttle-banger
couldn’t be my equal even if you was my doppelgänger
nice guy in life but on the mic i drop-all-manners
man i’m p-ssing on these rappers ’til i’ve emptied out my bladder
all i’m hearing is blabber
tracks with no-variety
that’s why i wrote-maniacally
’til i built my notoriety
still addicted to this game i’ve never known-sobriety
my psychiatry’s
what keeps me safe to roam-society!
been advancing every tick-of-the-clock
now i’m bringing the kind of heat that made icarus-drop
f-ck a door to the industry i’m picking-the-locks
and dashing a grenade inside man i’m sick-of-the-lot…

hook:

they already know
k!lling every beat, rhyme, lyric, every flow
in this for the art, could give a f-ck if i blow
‘cause the sickness inside this mind is only gonna grow
and it’s just gonna keep spreading ’til the day i die
ain’t a d-mn limit, that i won’t defy
still fully addicted to my medicine supply
if you think i’m gonna quit now man you must be high…

verse 2:

i spit like a g*nius
magical-as-a-genie-is
radical-as-houdini-is
tragical-and-just-tedious
that’s what your cd-is
mechanical-as-the-media’s
list of fake rappers talking greeziest
see i’m just a simple rapper with pipe-dreams
of one day having the opportunity to ignite-streams
of gasoline
over the p-ssy rappers on my-screen
hear them scream
and watch them burn as the light-gleams!
i’ve been a mic-fiend
since back in 01 as a kid with a pad and a pen-in-my-grasp
addicted to k!lling the beats and the rhymes, to get an adrenaline-blast
a sk!ll that i’d only go on to refine, always developing-fast
ignoring the haters and people who said i would never excel-in-my-craft
the nerve-of-the-c-nts
used to chat behind my back, now they’re serving-me-lunch!
ain’t a f-cking rapper here that i won’t verbally-crunch
and when i said i was here to the end it was never hyperbole-once…

[hook]

verse 3:

this ain’t checkers this is chess
that’s why i stay 20 steps
ahead of the rest
so while your sh-tty tunes’ll be here a year at best
i’ll still be remembered eons after i’m gone in the flesh
the sk!ll that i possess
ain’t something i need to validate
soon as i touch a mic these motherf-ckers salivate
if your top 10 rapper list ain’t where you allocate
me, then that’s a list you need to f-cking recalibrate!
i’ll show you what it means to start-from-the-bottom
coming from the streets of london where it’s dark-and-it’s-rotten
another broke mum, another fatherless-tot-and
i’ve come a long way now, but i’ve far-from-forgotten
all the memories, the pain-and-the-stress
with music as my only real way-to-express
never took a rest
stayed chained-to-the-desk
and i’ll be here still as obsessed
’til the day i meet the angel-of-death…

[hook]

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