Clash of the titans 2000 and 3
time to cheers everybody, so break out the Hennessy
clear your throats & lets start the beat
lets try and get these people to jump right out they seats
The auditorium echoed with cheers and screams
Damn I’m gunna make all those little bitches cream
judge me on performance of my lyrical stature
it’s a major factor on how much lyrics I can spit out by my own personal standards
my lyrics been downloaded right to my brain,
it’s insane, sweats pouring down my face like rain
my voice feels like it could almost give out
But still I shout all kinds of lyrics that individually stand out
I rap my style & look at the clock, that clock must be wrong, feels like so long
but that clocks precise, right down to the second and according to it
I still have about a minute 20 seconds
shit only that much times gone by
If I’m to survive, I gotta strive, to produce the best lyrics in limited time
I systematically searched my brain, while spitting each rhyme
looking for the right ones, hoping they’d come out right
putting them together with precision and care
almost seemed like verbal warfare
clocks tickin, right on key with my hearts beat
time to blow these peeps right tha fuck off they feet
with 20 seconds I concocted one last rhyme
I jus hope I’ll spit it in time
the last rhyme it went like this
life’s a bitch, till the day we die, that fuckin clock won’t stop tickin, while life passes us by
times precious to me and I tend to spend it with care, doing things I love, like rapping
year after year, precise is the beat, the flow twice as strong, I just hope the rest of you can fucking hold on.