adrenaline rush - looptroop rockers lyrics
adrenaline rush (x4)
ya, ya (looptroop)
check it out
looptroop rockerz
’99. david vs goliath. check it out ya ya ya, ha
feel the heartbeat (x4)
feel the adrenaline rush
[promoe]
my name p, still the same, word to gp
y’all wanna test me, you must be cp
i know that wasn’t pc, politically correct to say
well, neither is calling you g-y
hey man, i represent from v to a-dam
any d-mn day of the week might go spraycan
from gas-stations to subway stations
radio-stations, me and embee on a vacation
travelling europe in a bus, on a adrenaline rush
why superstars travelling on egotrips, because they must
are you a big tree then i’m a small chainsaw
ready to m-ssacre your -ss and let the brains blow
with a strange flow, write rhymes ’till i’m feverish
make a beverage of p-ssy-juice and the blood
of average mc’s, on stage i’m illin’
so, after the show lecture girls for s-xual healing
my microphone is like shower-curtain
reveals the naked truth, call me promoe perkins
a swedish psycho, travelling business cl-ss to norway, bergen
setting off fire alarms, microphones i’m burning
f-cking sh-t up like norwegians in s-train-yards
don’t believe me, check how i bless them bars
with the vocal joint, that’ll be the new focal point
for the whole hiphop-world, and still i’m just a little boy
with a p-ssion for taxin’ mc’s ’till them in p-ssion
appoint me the next chief, of finances
you better start giving some fine answers
we all know you’re guilty, you lying b-st-rd
better dead that, talk out of your head cr-p
before you hear yourself screaming (oh no) like redrat
small-timers, so called rhymers
stepping on stage got alzheimers (where am i)
this ain’t battle-rhymes, it’s battle cries, ancient warchamps
my name ain’t biggie, you don’t get one more chance
run off your mouth and i’ll run you off the street
promoe rules from the valley of the deep
peace to the valley of death, if you wanna step
that’ll be your last step, a promise not a threat
got you nervous, like you on ?
?mailbombs?, man, you need to gain pounds, man
you little feather-weight, get it straight, promoe penetrate
drill a hole in the ground and turn up in the united states
unite with the greats on the way up
stay up like girls dressed in stay-up’s, bombing lay-up’s
way after bed-time, you get dead rhymes
there’ll be no resurrection, for my sh-t
brovaz go cocoa like smif-n-wessun, no question
mics, spraycans and turntables
bringin the bloodrush like ?martin able?
but more than once a month, got mc’s
on the midnight run, through the land of the midnight-sun
sweden, gotham city to gothenburg
don’t give a f-ck y’all, i’m from the city of a suburb
p r o to the m o e
messing with me and you end up a memory
r.i.p mural in the rural area
jag heter m:rten, kommer fr:n sverige
represent wackness, like sizzla represents slackness
question mark check-holders and blackness
then when you’re done l!cking the b-lls of mad sk!llz
and sl!ck rick take a suck on my big d-ck
cause all i see is crews that bite, wack rhymes and wack mics
men are like rappers when they’re over hyped
over-night-sensations: promoe’s your replacement
i just to get down with my crew in the bas-m-nt
now i get the place bent like some
einstein from the pavement, you sit back in amazement
i write graffiti like some caveman
to the future of two-thousand, signing out five-thousand
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