Focused freshed up death to those disrespecting those eyes tricking those rabbits habbitual ritual texturized eyes know how i grind gimme more mavericks you know how i cut around corner stores making you another bore, like another bodega i just ciphered at, chopped it up at/
yo my bodega sold dreams paralyzed streets & cold screams, running shadows of kids who hold heat, getting thrown on the wall by the police, block cornerstone memories
envies enemies dentistry emcees until they ain't mouthing nothing slicker than a rick the ruler chant expose the fake, fraudulent to any of those clones get dethrone after i take my throne like the twenty-second phantom, you ain't killing this legacy or destiny, just another path for those to greed, hate & envy/
jealousy breeds heavy weaponry for crabs & thieves actually street animosity, death a step away addressed properly from the gut, saved me more then once sometimes played the chump but I'm still breathing what, fight a losing battle only if you have to, did that too, come back @ you it's all sun tzu
run too ya crew most are clones that can't shit out a poo they ain't even developed yet to take back the streets that ain't even on the levels of the competitent trying to compete i run tracks with more sprints and relays than a jamacan bobsled team/
only kick it with a chosen few thorough all the way through Laurel & Gorden 10304 ish
the kid flourish you can keep the streets i'm after bigger scenes, bigger dreams, big city schemes, after the keys to my city yo nah wut i mean it's all about living life & getting that cream
once upon a dream, schemes got scammed, scanned presto another plan was drawn
arthitecture procreate document what i mix on tapes tracked up to the tax bracket
know we swinging full metal jackets unloading clips making more shins broke than chains link fences get climbed, and scaled/
writers impaled and held penned by grimy whales,Originally Posted by SHEEPISH LORD OF CHAOS
slimy trails and the scent of firing shells in the wind
weep for lost babylon,
the bleeding god, the forgotten sheep slaughtered in a forest of evil fog
bordered by a sea of faults,
fleeing mobs turn to see the holocaust and become kings and queens of salt
screaming shots, police and chalk,
wingless fallen demons walking among us as people...
-.5Kut
gun powder i spit like phlegm tell a friend
kung pow style wow when i descend on top of ya brim...
"Fuck fame... I'll shoot a hole in a 50 cent piece to test my aim." - Masta Killah (One Blood)
"Kiss the pyramid...experiment wit high explosives. I slap box wit Jesus....lick shots at Joseph." - GFK (Daytona 500)
untuck the slim cool cold crushing bruiser leave most in the romper room
thinking they ain't iller than SARS thinking they got bars when there just tooth brushing up they're scars/
it's so bizzare how i like a Russian czars
push pawns to their limit until they crushin' avatars
"Fuck fame... I'll shoot a hole in a 50 cent piece to test my aim." - Masta Killah (One Blood)
"Kiss the pyramid...experiment wit high explosives. I slap box wit Jesus....lick shots at Joseph." - GFK (Daytona 500)
above par hard contact with bars to survive battle scars moving like rapid cars
before collusion embarking on carving streets walking my dogs barking heat
we clean sweep my team is so hard to beat
series of miseries we bring to your feet if you step up to compete
Last edited by MosHigh; 03-14-2013 at 03:51 PM.
"Fuck fame... I'll shoot a hole in a 50 cent piece to test my aim." - Masta Killah (One Blood)
"Kiss the pyramid...experiment wit high explosives. I slap box wit Jesus....lick shots at Joseph." - GFK (Daytona 500)
no competition stepping on my concrete combative jargon of harden hearts cause ya retreat reek of defeat full on contact elite physique I speak velocity when i creep on beats I mistreat emcees & vocabularies
we leave em stabbed n burried, Bag Birds like the trash at larry's
while heavy-ass sacks is carried on backs over pasture praries
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