lyrical massacre - lb productions lyrics
[kas solo]
lyrically, i’m well*rounded and this mountain in front of me
get split in half so i don’t have to walk around it
spiritually, i’m well*grounded, leave you spellbound
when the mouth spits a fountain a million miles an hour
devour these so*called dogs, so forth and so on
my whole fort gets love but still lacks support to grow on
i bring it back to voltron, connect the letters in the verse
to form a dope song that’ll make a street fight look like socom
my whole squad is so strong, in the middle of winter with no coat on
during a snowstorm and so far my own thoughts have got me this far
in this cold war, my body armor, swords and a blowtorch
so go forth and build an army, i’m so sure that it’ll take more than that to harm me
by these kids with no forcе
i hope yours is written truly
just try to move mе
my verbal uzi got me drooling on a dragon, not of movie
these f*cking actors lack the perfect vernacular
attacking cats with a rap, lyrical massacre
i bring it back to the audio track
and bump my gums once, son, with fangs like dracula
these f*cking actors lack the perfect vernacular
attacking cats with a rap, lyrical massacre
i bring it back to the audio track
and bump my gums once, son, with fangs like dracula
[mark deez]
yo, wilkshake, layzie, yo
red rum, dead pump
text thumbs, jetson get some, spit cuss
d*ck rust, sick thrust, pick us
lift us, gift us, sh*t slung, proper game
drop your frame, i’m not insane
i am not your mayne, i am not your man
i am not the same, i am not your sam
i am all for pain, don’t fall for fame
call your name, call your dame, it’s all the game
you lost your claim, i am dead cell, west h*ll
text k!lled, death builds
hardcore, core hard, want more war yard
for sure god, your job, you are fired
retired, rehired, expired
f*cking wired, f*cking liar, i am fire
yearning, planet turning, hurt me
herpes, dirt cheap, first bees
disperse, disperse deez
[wilkshake]
you’re going a mile a minute, i’m going three miles per second
upper decking quickly, swiftly, eyes glistening whistling
at the magic of the sorcerer’s casting
unmasking broken flasks that appear to have no cracks
hijacked 180 degrees, not looking back
but glaring north like a fresh soul after a fresh divorce
the report indicated salivating tongues and soggy pores
with kinetic deliverance of board shattering locked doors
unlawful entry with plenty of enemies
acquired from being exactly where i’m supposed to be
spitboss shooting targets like haas
vocal chords like swords
large awards from lords moving towards the lyrics i absorb
hiphop to the core, punk rooted through the floor
lyrical hiphop and punk rock are lawn mowed valleys
we’re at war with the piranhas, our nightly spit rallies
the close cologne of marijuana, i’m gonna shake the iron lava
with my vocal exhaust and beta capa
i won’t shoot you with a gun, my verbal kung fu will repeatedly stab you
it’s true, your top box is black and blue
my verbal pharmaceuticals could have reduced your flu
but i attacked your throat like all good mc’s should do
it’s true
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