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s.r.d. - peter rosenberg lyrics

[verse 1: styles p]
yeah i’m cool but i’m petty as f*ck
i’m the type to beat his ass when he said it’s enough
rollin’ j, takin’ puffs
underground but i’m over the top
enough’s enough now, f*ck the pigs, over the slop
i’m like stallone with the hat back, over the top
but i don’t arm wrestle, i atom bomb wrestle
i’m a nuke when i’m in the booth, i’m a bronze vessel
have you seen a brown mule?
i can look in the mirror in the pitch*black dark, see if verses shine through it
i can k!ll an industry, i put my mind to it
i can look at the sun and say a rhyme to it
[?] moon [?], i’m aligned to it
yeah, it’s the ghost of peter rosenberg
you get your millimeter if you know the word
you better light a joint if you know the time
if you ever seen a jedi then you know the signs

[verse 2: ransom]
yeah, but what happens when both our souls align?
a soldier’s prime is often wasted on war, never forget it
there’s no credit for older rappers whose flows decline
n*ggas walk a tightrope but can never toe the line
i’m so refined that n*ggas who watch me can never know the time
so sublime, my vivid verses console the blind
hot*headed n*gga spittin’ the coldest rhymes
drop*dead n*ggas figure they know the crime
control your mind with torturous imagery
there’s no synergy
i cynically destroy all lyrically without sympathy [?]
i was placed here to be a messiah
born in fire, raised in h*ll like a note that’s raised by mariah
my vocals came with desire
i know you feel my energy
you think you lost a friend, but in fact you’re gainin’ an enemy
put my pain in this mentally
the only way i know to do it
you don’t need to know me, my n*gga, just know the music
[verse 3: smoke dza]
this one thing got me trippin’, amerie
the high level is not eye level, you can’t critique
packs and pearls, lemon cherry from cannatique
kicks from joe fresh goods on release
let’s make this quick, i had to go bust a cell
watch goldmines crumble, n*ggas fumbled ‘n fell
check the weight on your own time, it’s too much to scale
appraisal for the piece, worth 4 years in jail
kush god, all hail [?]
they talk tall tales, hope all is well, for real
this spot is hot, i had to keep off it
switched the operation up, hit different resources
my people baggin’ up, doggy said he feel nauseous
half*ass too, [?] got him trippin’ in the hazmat suit
be careful with it, ’cause you really have to
or it’d be your last move

[sample: shawn leflar, tom o’dell]
#1101*1816 is the item number on this one. and the nice thing about these practice katanas*
(sounds of blade hitting table and breaking)
oh, oh, that hurt!
oh, that hurt, big time
a piece of that, just the tip, just got me, o’dell
ohhh, that got me good (you alright?)
a piece of that tip just got me
(oh my) folks right now, we uh, may need emergency surgery in the studio

- peter rosenberg lyrics

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