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spitboss regime - lb productions lyrics

[hook]
what i say should be displayed at the smithsonian
what i say should be displayed at the smithsonian
line for line, i battle any kind of mc at any time
whether they signed or unsigned

[kas solo]
ayo, my pen cast light over the page
allowin’ me to see a new way, a new day
but sometimes shadow figures lurk amongst the words when i write
but it’s okay, they’ll go away someday
but for now i like to see my work worth the nerves of certain birds
converse with herds of mcs in search of the perfect tonguе
convert the dirt to ceilings, my turf is sеaled in the earth
with the worms next to the core where the real is
y’all know what the deal is, i’m here, so start kneelin
the spitboss regime, son, we came here for building
the citadel of thrill, men, women and children
of the storm, the author forms of sinners and k!llers
beginners and fillers, get the children they listen to me throw kids
the venom packed in my grill like a stonefish
no sh*t? h*ll yeah, son, i stay focused
and circle around the words in my head like a vulture
my old sh*t is old sh*t, new sh*t is smokin’
don’t get it twisted, you’re hopeless, your bruises are showing
my battle wounds are open and none of them are closing
keep l!ckin’ at the cuts, son, can’t heal when i’m in motion
my breastplate is golden, my shield is on my shoulder
axe can break a boulder and my mouth can split an ocean
down south considered slower, out west a mower
east, a mower of beats, here a beast in control of the solar system
soul or system, you choose
control or in control of your own visions, win or lose
i’ma give it my best while the rest try to fit in my shoes
you’ll be stuck catchin’ your breath while i’m makin’ my next move
[dw]
it’s all about the bars and beats
unleash, be a freak, be a beast
they go together like cars and streets
honestly, i got you b*st*rd’s beat
i’m elite with speech
i’ll out rhyme you while i’m half asleep
you geeks, should applaud when i’m rockin’ this
you shot and missed, the way my jaw socket lips
is an autonomous rocket ship
it’s easy for me to drop a diss
take it too far, then it’s easy for you to cop a fist
stop your sh*t, put you in a lunar coma
rappers wanna be stars, well i wanna be a supernova
diss me and i’m shootin’ at you soon
man, i’m over the moon like jupiter in june
dw high, double droppin’ e pills
weak troubles go by, man, i’m lovin’ free will
i’m the definition of refill
i need more till i get sick of the game
take out the rest so i can be ill
rhyme stealth, i can be the passive type
when i rap at night up inside everything which i felt
i don’t need any help, grab the mic like a hermaphrodite
cause i can f*ckin’ do it by myself
yeah, and i’m literally defined as the truth
so in a booth, i’m lyrically defined
physically recline my mind, it twines lines
send a shiver up your spine, the ability is mine
my reckless endeavors send tremors like mental hammers
through the heads of whoever remembers to check the weather
but whether i’m p*ssed off, doesn’t matter
just know that i rip hot and i’m a spitboss rapper
[j.crawford]
i train alone, there’s no one to hold my hand
i’m a grown man, a soldier with an order plan
see, firm and focused, i stand, yo, i know i can
take the world on, if only with a global stance
so many different thoughts keep my mental crowded
and the anger that fills me up keeps my conscience clouded
still, i wrap my mind around it while you doubt it
which tells me you don’t know a f*ckin’ thing about it
keep goin’ at full throttle, rarely touch a bottle (nah)
yo, i’m not known for watchin’ soaps or playin’ lotto (h*ll no)
you see, i don’t need only one to have to follow
live my life every day like it was written in a novel
listen, i handle business, physically fit and spitting
which keeps me tactically and technically proficient
represent everything i’m kickin’, how i’m living
i strive to keep it live, so tell me, what am i missin’
string together thoughts to construct the next thesis
or internalize the message from the best speeches
methodically move across the board like chess pieces
while you trip up, fall face first in fresh fe*ces
sweet jesus, you lookin’ at a man with a mission
and sk!lls to predict the weather, plus sick conditioning
mopped up, runnin’ till the sh*t is sickening
with a rucksack big enough to fit a midget in
what
[hook]
cause*cause*cause*cause i be in the crowd
what i*what i say should be displayed at the smithsonian
rip your*rip your*rip your*rip your*rip your speakers to ashes

[mark deez]
yeah, deez, yo
i’m just f*ckin’ round on this track
bustin’ rounds on this track
you hush and touch the ground, i put it down, it’s a wrap
i said you gotta pick deez*el
got a big ego, not really a hero
but i run empires like nero
a beast flows, hot potato heat hold
i’m pete rose, leave your seat froze
you fallin’ out from a weak dose
of rhyme prescription, my invention
my intention to play the hitman henchman
we the sh*t, man, listen, for a second or two
i’ll wreck the record for you
and the lab composer could c*ck just like a professor would do
sit down and stress a lecture with you
destined to be a legend, what you steppin’ into
i’m headed for the throne
so whoever the king of rap is, is headin’ home
i’m h*lla stoned, never low esteemed
my dream to get cream by the means
of spittin’ the five times three
and become the greatest like ali
call me the rhyme annihilator to strive for paper
if you think you great, well i am greater
hip hop heads bow and embrace that i’m the savior
darth vader doing you a favor
slice nice like lightsabers at kimbo
to put a tremble into your window
shout out to my kinfolk
i’ve been bold, spittin’ scriptures
minions get addicted to my pictures
like it was a pitcher of liquor
horror wizard’s elixir in the visceral
my flow will lit you up past the atmosphere
philosophy of sp*ce, time, and matter
do you have an ear, yo
do you have an ear, (yo)
i’m the last fragment of light generated in the vacuum tube of life
spit at whoever you like on the mic
alpha and omega type texture i hope it incites
you knowin’ i’m hype
verbal verses like vans flipping vertical
servin’ you, murkin’ you for a certain
come from beyond the curtain, straight hurting
any mc for multiple purses
i got good assertion for any person
on the stage you get murdered
sacrificed to the crowd like a pagan ritual
the same, sane individual here for an interview
may i spit a few bars
lyrical laws, distilled by the jaw
all will fall to the sk!ll to leave listeners in awe
i am raw

[hook]
cause*cause*cause*cause i be in the crowd
what i*what i say should be displayed at the smithsonian
rip your*rip your*rip your*rip your*rip your speakers to ashes

[k*rino]
yeah, it’s ya boy k*rino
south park coalition
this how we do

my lyrical juice was squeezed
experimentally placed inside fleas
and they bench*pressed trees
my tongue’s wicked, i dip it in acrylic
hot liquid in a sk!llet, you can spill it all on it i wouldn’t feel it
my brain is a wasp nest
a scientist blacked out after i spit
cause he tried explainin’ the process
i’m in the pool doin’ thousand volt shock tests
thoughts stretch like the neck of that creature in loch ness
every syllable connects, unforgettable as s*x
it have life long residual effects
i’m the ether breather, the wide receiver
who ran a five million mile deep fly pattern and called the media
the foreseeing, psychic, phenomenal
who went in your mind and punished you
for some wretched sh*t you was gonna do
k*rino, the dark cloud that made the sky scary
get my literary work from the heavenly library

ha ha ha ha haa ha ha ha ha haa
ha ha haa

[hook]
cause*cause*cause*cause i be in the crowd
what i*what i say should be displayed at the smithsonian
rip your*rip your*rip your*rip your*rip your speakers to ashes
you must be asking for, some sort of a massacre

- lb productions lyrics

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