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Shock Value ( Ill Shit Fa Real...peep)
IP:
i replied too:
Shit On YOU! Papa J Warlords Diss Hot!! beatle juice The Mind Is My Prison N-Demik Shock Value verse one: Torn runnin toward shunned dreams/ My Breathin contorts asthma force lungs to cling/ Dummies need ta hold ya spleens, or buckle ya belts up tight/ Cause if ya think from tha left, brace yourself to get stumped right/ And Ima get felt like an adrenaline rush/ I push brains in ta tha guts guttin ya hunch / With the mic after I pop the clutch / And Trust that I can’t dilute lyrics much/ Not overheatin but I stay hot enough/ To just burn the ash off tha Dutch/ Its like I cough exstasy up/ Cause you cats gon’ get touched/ Until I bump off these menial competitors/ With the brawn of mythical minotaurs/ And Ima persist as a lyrical offender/ Until I elicit goose bumps in local listeners/ Until the plasma seethes up/ As tha beat goes thump/ Until you drink the lyrics up/ And hiccup the gist of it up/ Ya’ll niggas said what? Ya’ll niggas is nuts/ Cause I drop heat on tha lugz like cigarette butts/ These bitches don’t know my style switches/ Similar to bisexual disposition when Im in competition/ Lets get it straightened My shock tactics inflicts these apathetic masses/ Similar to sporadic bullets blasted from semi-automatics/ I’m like electrified eels you can’t touch the skill/ You think you hard ha! better bring the viagra pills/ I’m Not from Chicago but I stay Ill/ Ha! And that Noise you’d better kill/ Cause no common sense will/ Make my blood spill on the battlefield/ verse two: Diggin in the crates to acquire the taste of mass appeal/ Rig the ones who hate who can neva penetrate the energy field/ Of vessels of the real I don’t represent no fuckin thug/ No record deal wont have me endorsin guns/ To me Hip-Hop plays the golden gun to stun/ And Mics are the slugs shockin the body numb/ Yes the Fifth Element has come/ Bringin diversity to the hip hop nation/ So Why pay lump sums to stray from abstinent ways/ When I can burn you out like ya do spliffs on ashtrays/ Cause niggas mince the brain with rat poison to cloak dismay/ Black mind states remain in the labyrinth of malaise/ While Verbally I sodomize the pitiful minds/ Of those inclined to touch mic devices with the likes of mine/ Its time and All I need is one stand and a spotlight/ One hand and one mic to rock the spot right/ And like assholes doin jail time Ima keep it tight/ And I don’t like to waist time even if for a minute/ When ya finished ya finished so my intention/ In the 30 sec time limit Is to disfigure ya from waist-line to tendon/ and splendor at how I dismember the fruits of ya labor/ By lyrically blendin em limber like blades in a blender/ Remember many presume you are what you eat/ So if I consume the pick of the liter what does that make me/ |
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