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Styles Of Beyond - Superstars

[Takbir]
Aiyyo, first things first
It′s time to shake ground in the eighth round
Box battle and break down
For the beak in the rhyme tone
jump in the cyclone
S-T-Y-L-E-S, yes I know
Give the rap phene vaccine
packed red beam
Put ′em up, what the fuck
You plucked a bad seed
Off the wall, spittin′ the guerilla tag team
What′s up now, duck down stuff that can′t breathe

[Ryu]
Yo- you know the routine, the demon effect
Please, don′t step, you wanna be one of my pet peeves
The more beef the better; sound gay
But you all wanna sleep together, ok
In the club we gon′ sneak berrettas
Why not? We got so much street credit, the fuckin′ police let us
Now that′s bullshit, cause we don′t pack heat
So come and get your head crackin′ up at me

[Chorus]
Kick it- movin′ it′s on now
Making it punk loud
Shaking the buck wild
Rapin′ the punk style
Fakin′ the funk pal
Dunk watch the punk
What now? Watch your battleship get sunk down
Click (click) pow (pow) knocked (knocked) out (out)
What? Just what I thought, what′s up now?
Hu- Hu- bugs out through the speaker
dap-dap dabbin′ the track with both hands
I′m like Hu-hu- bugs out through the speaker
dap-dap dabbin′ the track with both hands

[Ryu]
Hold it down, never give in
Styles ever get limbs
Or whether you want it to end
Dirty seringe, I murder ′em again
97 serving them sins
Uh 30 your friends get knocked out, turbulent wind
Hopped out, what you want, big verb in the gin

I′m a fish; you can tell by the flippers or fins
C′mon

[Takbir]
Yo- I got a rock style
Pivot the offspring and joke with ′em
With a distorted gist off string
Who am i? Rushin′ what leg? who and Tak?
Pushin′ your bed hotter than Quebec in July
Area 51, stereo, rive gun live
Here we go, S-O-B drop some
For the kids in the hall with the new block tape
Blast from both angles like boondock saints
So get up get up and let the sound hit ya
Snap it′s already ya style picture
(Lot electrical)

[Chorus]

[Tak]
Who the hell wear splittin′ the belly up on a selfish
Shinnin′ in your style playin′ the fell blitz
Drillin′ your brain, like rap and video games
Feel the seringe for the styles that stickin′ in your brain

[Ryu]
Yo- what kind of shit is he on
Really is styles, really be on
C′mon punk fuck off; You really gotta be gone
Ripped out of your brain
Pissed covered in shit to diss this S-O-B game
Son of a bitch
I′ma start killin′ for kicks
There ain′t an air force 1 inn the globe I can′t fig, get it?
I′m sick with it, when I spit the venom
And it drip′s up in ′em
And it get′s the women in a
Quick dilemma; We can settle it now
And I don′t know who did it but they said it was styles

bugs out through the speaker
dap-dap dabbin′ the track with both hands
bugs out through the speaker
dap-dap dabbin′ the track with both hands

[Chorus]

Дата написания: 25 Февраля 2024 07:42:59

Styles Of Beyond - Red To Black

I had a friend named Victor
The two of us used to hang every single day
and it seemed like overnight that his whole life just
changed
I know when his mom and dad broke up
it didnt make sense but I know that his dad was a drunk
and he gambled away the rent
pretty soon vic was seein red
pissed off but instead
he drank every night til he passed out
then he′d do it all again
the whole time he was fine on the outside to cover the pain
but on the inside all he was tryin to do was get away

Dying to get away
Let the pain of yesterday go slipping through the cracks

Funny how things change color
then fade to another shade
When you had it made it was all good
but now look just another day
it was so fresh it was so clean
now its all gone
1, 2, 3, lights out
which way to turn
cant get a grip
all alone in a big white house
everyday gets worse and your just cursed
til your head bursts and it hurts so bad
she left like yourself should have thought of that one
first
no family, no kids, can′t accept what you did
now you wanna runaway but you can′t cuz the past comes back
again

Slippin through the cracks
Sip a little jack
Go to bed half dead
What about rent
Why does every cent gotta be a bet
Whens it gonna end
Oh my god, we dont got a penny left
My moms gotta find a way to get a job
Outta debt, outta dodge, outta breath, outta this big
problem
My pops wanna get away from the pain
In a better place in his brain
But the medication he takes makes him wasted
So sick if hes gonna think the good lord would come take
him
Im shakin him now wake up you son of a bitch

He′s dying to get away
Let the pain of yesterday go slipping through the cracks
Hiding himself away watching all the memories fade
Away From red to black

He′s dying to get away
Let the pain of yesterday go slipping through the cracks
Hiding himself away watching all the memories fade
Away From red to black

(Slipping through the Cracks)

Дата написания: 25 Февраля 2024 07:42:58

Styles Of Beyond - Outta Control

[Verse 1: Ryu]
Yo...takin′ the game back, point blank, aim gats
We both dope from the same cocaine sack
Laugh with no pain, never go glitzy
Pop thug, my necklace dangle my M-60 (Uh!)
Outta control now, half of the globe
Raps and wreaks of wackness, cover your nose
So take your weeks of practice
Back, you freakin′ flow in a geeky accent, "Callin′ all freaks!"
That′s what you get, get got it? Good
Yo Cheap, we got a smash hit, knock on wood
That′s it, put your hands up (Uh!) They can′t stand us
Dig a big pit the size of the Grand Canyon
Push ′em over the cliff, you nutty as squirrel shit
Thinkin′ you′re so sick, but I carry the cure, bitch
Lots of sleep, plenty of pills and blow
Now who want it with the S.O.B.? Let′s go!

[Chorus: Ryu]
Stand up! C′mon, and if ya like it say ("Uhhh...")
Ya like it, say ("Well...")
Ya love it, say ("Yeahhh")
So get up! And if it′s hype, say ("Uh!")
Ryu and Tak, what′s up now? We outta control!

Hands up! C′mon, and if ya like it, say ("Ha!")
Ya like it, say ("Whoa")
Ya love it, say ("A wwwesome!")
So get up! And if it′s hype, say ("Oh my God!")
Ryu and Tak, what′s up now? We outta control!

[Verse 2: Tak]
Yo...wakin′ up early, goin′ to work is a joke
So deep, with no sleep, it hurts when you′re dope
So I, picked up a pen and squirt a couple of quotes
While I dream and hurdle over your hoax
Blowin′ steam like, it′s all murder, incite the right words to
Fight, I might serve ya mic, and vice-versa
Spillin′ my ink on a piece of paper
Slowly I sink, I think I′m a freak of nature
So I, step it up now, outta control, about to explode
I′m in the house, countin′ my dough
Bounce and I roll, pick up a half ounce of the ′dro, psyche
You don′t even smoke punk, you′re stuck in the strobelight
Back to the beginning, with scar tissue and celibate thoughts
I′m in the dark with artificial intelligence
Never before seen, it′s the untold legacy
Rippin′ it, tearin′ the mics up, stash the weaponry

[Chorus:]
Stand up! C′mon, and if ya like it say ("Ahhh")
Ya like it, say ("Uh!")
Ya love it, say ("Yeahhh")
So get up! And if it′s hype, say ("Well...")
Ryu and Tak, what′s up now? We outta control!

Hands up! C′mon, and if ya like it, say ("Yeahhh")
Ya like it, say ("Ahhh")
Ya love it, say ("Ummm")
So get up! And if it′s hype, say ("Oh!")
Ryu and Tak, what′s up now? We outta control!

[Verse 3: Ryu]
Yo...I still fade ′em, rep L.A.
West up ′till death, but I′m a New York native
818 rock outta control, we so fresh, you know
No one except us, runs the west coast
You′re best to, mind your biz and stay useless
I′ma take a swing at your brain and Babe Ruth it
Ruthless gangsta, definition of sick
Is Ryu and Tak together, we the weapon and clip

[Verse 4: Tak]
Yo...pop it and cork it, a wild horse
I like the way it flows, mix a little with Style Warz
Cabernet and Merlot, I′m sayin′ it′s got me, swingin′ fo′ sho
Speakin′...language in prose so my name′ll get known
It′s like...makin′ a record, you gotta chase it or catch it
I keep spittin′ this image with no escapin′ the method
While I′m sittin′ on the wall in between two women
And I can′t even decide, I′m in the pool swimmin′ like...

[Chorus:]
Stand up! C′mon, and if ya like it say ("Yeah")
Ya like it, say ("Umm...")
Ya love it, say ("Eeep")
So get up! And if it′s hype, say ("Uh!")
Ryu and Tak, what′s up now? We outta control!

Hands up! C′mon, and if ya like it, say ("Oooh")
Ya like it, say ("Okay then")
Ya love it, say ("Umm...")
So get up! And if it′s hype, say ("Ahhh!")
Ryu and Tak, what′s up now? We outta control!

[Outro: Ryu]
Yo...Cheapshot′s always outta control, uh!
Vin Skully, gettin′ outta control
You know my man double-O gettin′ outta control, uh!
Lexicon, always outta control, yeah!
4-Zone′s always outta control
And ya know Trev Dog gettin′ outta control, uh!
Sandman, gettin′ outta control
Ya know Spytech Records always outta control, uh!
And that′s it...2003, S.O.B....uh!

"That...was...a wwwesome! Hahahaha...that sucks."

Дата написания: 25 Февраля 2024 07:42:58

Styles Of Beyond - Bleach

[Verse 1: Takbir]
Yo, swing the sword for the classic year
Bring the noise with your hands up, slash and tear
Who can, fathom asthma, dash for air
Spittin′ on the baby bib in the plastic chair
What′s up stupid?
(Shoot this)
1-5-1 in the shot glass
(Hot flash)
Bangin′ on the drum, huh
We cause havoc down in Las Vegas
Paper trails racing Pelican Brief-cases
We outrageous, name the streets gave us
Yeah, we got fame, but now we heat blazers
I let ′em all fly, 10 in the clip, 1 in the chamber
Thumbs up! Another banger
Untuck the flamer, dumbfuck
It′s like gettin′ with a dumptruck
Brains and guts
Maim, cut, aim, duck, same, stuff
Get you cracked up like cocaine, heat ′em up
OK, I′ll let a sucka′s fly once
Face down, found him in his Cap′n Crunch
Uh, malpractice - a bang-all jam
I joust rappers and track in the radar scans
Flip beats for the crew like fleets and platoons
Reach for the moon like Reese Witherspoon, uh
Don′t stop the sure-shot, the (???) anthem
Blast the gold box, cock back the cannon
What′s up partna, I got ya (what, what)
Hope that (spoken gunshots) crack the piata
Slap, box, mouth of backwash
Teeth mashed up on the asphalt, ya dig?
Set the pace like a mustang, mashin′
Up the stakes, who wanna cut the cake, I take cash
Dropped on a blood-stained mattress
Stop, you ain′t got access, watch
I′mma change my asset, Ryu and Tak
You little cunts in the game, you can suck my cum
And lay flat on the ground, don′t make ′em peep
If you want the stains out now, get the bleach

Guess who′s got the rubber gloves and the bleach?
Guess who′s rockin every club, that′s me
Get so hot, you feel the buzz in

Дата написания: 25 Февраля 2024 07:42:58

Styles Of Beyond - Be Your Dog

[Ryu:]
Hmmm.
Ya, It′s Megadef
What you know bout Chepshots
Ya (Ya), Yo (Yo)
What you know about Tak (Tak)
What you know about Ryu (Faggot)
What You know about this huh (ahhhhh)

[Tak:]
Another half ass hit out now
We used to chill till the mother f (Screech) did our style
It′s kinda funny how
You and your friends of small towns
Act like got something big, to drawn down, silly
Prolly confuse serve it up to shock
Cause when you rhyme you sound like bolt combust combine
Don′t act like you don′t know
You and your crew couldn′t hold it down solo
Your full of poop, so I′m a scoop the fecies and put it in a pamper
Let it drag and any time you call I won′t answer
Won′t get a cab and ride for free
You a little kitten that shouldn′t of climbed the tree
Now your stuck with the truth, till we dig up the bones
I feel pregnant, birth to my visible clones
So for nine months I′m back rap, watch them grow
With your back pack clown you sound sloppy though, c′mon

[Chorus:]
Now I Wanna Be You Dog
Now I Wanna Be You Dog
Now I Wanna Be You Dog
Now I Wanna Be You Dog

[Ryu:]
Listen Up Faggot! (Ahhhhhhhhh!)
Knock, knock come off the damn platinum
Stab back and drop the plaque, pop, pop
So cock the magnum
Walk, walk blow shots off at random
While you with Tak
We don′t stop the anthem, get my flow back
Low jack, phone tap punk the Pink Panther
Give me a sol clap, click clack, rip that
Snap necks quicker then Kit-Kats
Knick-Knack paddy whack pistol whip, pump the jams up
Wild west SOB′s shit′s bonanza
Who the fuck wants it
Spits guitar picks
Slit you neck with a Bic razor across it, uh
Knock the bitch lead singer unconscious
No pets, so don′t step, watch the dog shit

[Chorus:]
Now I Wanna Be You Dog
Now I Wanna Be You Dog
Now I Wanna Be You Dog
Now I Wanna Be You Dog

[Tak:]
Signed a bad deal with a weak video
Maybe if I asked then I wouldn′t need serial
Wouldn′t have to beg anybody for shit
Specially to play me like I′m some kind of a bitch
Every other day people just want to swallow my spit
Like I′m a plunger just lunge into the domino kits
And promoters with the fat heads
You and your chick friends
You don′t even know what rap is, you trippin′
47 boots on the chin and I′m marquee
Any niggers heads spinnin′ words out of my three
Hardiness skill, I′ll be a thrill, something that ain′t real it′s obvious still
So for the hell of it we dropped another album
Shock every freak, artificial intelligence
From popped pills get the mag-in-um click
Reload if necessary just to handle the kick, bitch

[Chorus:]
Now I Wanna Be You Dog
Now I Wanna Be You Dog
Now I Wanna Be You Dog
Now I Wanna Be You Dog

Now I wanna be your hip-hop nerd

Дата написания: 25 Февраля 2024 07:42:57

Styles Of Beyond - Megadef

Hello, how you doin′?
It′s nice to meet you and [?]
The space that you continue that takin′ this music
I′mma movin′ your spaces
Snake the [?]
And crown myself to dawn of the [?]
Keep calm
The [?] retards is the best ? the last unique [?]
The walls you put up they had to be tall
While I told Cheapshot to stare the beat on

You know it′s on, you can check my grin
Every [?] got bumps like infected skin
I don′t got big trucks with expensive rims
I got 5 bucks ′til my checks come in
I can you show you real quick what offensive is
Touch my fat and bang you to suck my tits
In the front row pissin′ on a bunch of kids
You better damn well know who the fuck this is (ryu)

Oh no no no no no
[?] let′s go
Got my smokes and my liquor
Don′t think that we won′t getcha
One day, real soon, you′ll be lookin′ around like "who knew?"

They will come out quick and [?]
We win, you lose

Megadef, uhh, buck the system
My shit knocks like a [?]
Double fistin′, piece of cake
My clique hold more liquid than a frequent lake
Hit my sell you can meet your fake, what′s up?
Hella′s hot when the ? is grey
Who the balls out ? and bang and say [?]
Ryu and Tak, Cheapshot and ?

Get a skin of a [?]
[?]
She spoke Greek in a low key tone that grabs you
[?] nice lips, tight to kiss but she′s
Out of my [?]
Still I′m on the [?] lookin′ for whoever to kill
Must ? at least a hundred like Cruella de Ville (how ever you spell that sh*t)
So when I′m in the joint, packin′ ? to chill
I′m just actin′, money′s what I get for the drill, yeah

Oh no no no no no
? let′s go
Got my smokes and my liquor
Don′t think that we won′t getcha
One day, real soon, you′ll be lookin′ around like "who knew?"
They will come out quick and [?]
We win, you lose

Watch the [?] of shots [?] a look
Much differences that [?] the dress
Cool ′cause now I′m in the skies where I had to decide
You can′t catch me, oops
Look, you wear the line
I′m so sexy slap and tab down on the plastic
′til I puke a [?] shot gone in the taxi, oh
In the land the Megadef is over
Never get sober, hell of a steam roller

The door′s open, be my guest
You know it′s hot, you can see my breath
In the summer when the sun′s up the gun becomes us
You know my name, Tiger Chan ? nuts
Got the props and it kicks the match
Off my dick, for once let me itch my sack
Go to war with the Irish, wish you did
I′ll take a whole fan base with a bitch [?]

Oh no no no no no
[?] let′s go
Got my smokes and my liquor
Don′t think that we won′t getcha
One day, real soon, you′ll be lookin′ around like "who knew?"
They will come out quick and [?]
We win, you lose

Дата написания: 25 Февраля 2024 07:42:57

Styles Of Beyond - Mr. Brown

Shout out my name, you bitch

[Verse 1]
Oh, yeah, who wanna rip with Styles?
The whole place on the lookout for Mr. Brown
We′ve got, plenty of clues and forensic files
Plus, envious crews, so we trip for miles
It′s (Mister Brown!)
Yeah, you know the drill
Never holdin′ ′em still
Roll ′em over the hill
Just glide, close your mouth and open the blinds
Took the wings off a bird and let it float to the side
Say (What?) to hear me callin
Shoutin out my name and playin′ this in the Walkman

[Chorus]
Aiyo, crash the gates
Aiyo, pack the place up
Break stuff, takin′ all the paper
I′mma stay laced up
Keep a shank tucked, take a pay cut
Even let you keep the dang paste up (really?)
Say somethin, punk, what, put away the blank gun
Fakes wanna talk about bank but they make none
Live from the sweatbox, sucking on the (???)
Pop some, lookin′ for the foxhunt, peace

[Verse 2]
Yo, the joke′s over, slap the bloke sober
Catch a .40 caliber case of glaucoma
Riders like Johnny Depp rollin′ with Winona
Big trunk fulla shit, blow the globe up
So what? nobody knows us, got no love
Pop 6, Ryu and Tak, cops know what it does
Hot shit by the bungalow, drop the bloody glove
Won′t get caught killin′ today, baby, cause I′m a thug

Bottles of beer from the land of five horses
Man who wasn′t there like Billy Bob Thornton
Crush-crew landin in, steppin′ into the scene
Fertilize new lawns, a Requiem for a Dream
It′s (Mister Brown!), legendary assignment
Searchlights hover, but can′t seem to find him
Track down whatever you can in the mist
In this case, it′s strictly the hand of a fist
So (What?), keep your eyes peeled

Дата написания: 25 Февраля 2024 07:42:57

Styles Of Beyond - Pay Me

(feat. 4-Zone)

I remember forever
What I would to get better
When I was cruisin′ Winnetka
That′s when the crew was together
We use the music to sympathize
with the people in disguise
Never mind, never stop, never look back though
Just keep on going right
So that′s what I did when I got up in the crib
Just right and split my wig
Can′t even think,
Got a block I′m stuck
So I had to turn around and dig
Reach, reach, pull out somethin′
I don′t really know but the sound keep bumpin
Round and round, we go pound the ground below
Sound at every front, yeah
There it is, turn it up, tha t′s what I like
When I′m on stage, live, when I′m rappin′ on the mic
And the people in the front wanna clap, wanna hype
And people who wanna smoke in the back pack in the pipe
That′s tight, aight, so
Never know when we just might blow
So I had to put it down with the song
Styles of Beyond and that′s how the night go

You want that shit, but not for free
We don′t take checks or property
So ′bout that mess but not with me
Unless you got that proper fee
And if you can′t come up with it
I can′t make in those purchases
And blow my dough on kicks and shit
It′s all your fault, I′ll make you pay (you got a)

Problem with the sound, nah
Fuck you, pay me
I′mma put you on the ground now
Fuck you, pay me
If the club burned down, mutha
Fuck you , pay me
10 bucks are 30 thou now
Fuck you pay me
Listen,
You want it free, I don′t agree, I′m not a rookie now
So fuck your benefit show if you gettin′ 30 thou
This ain′t a song about "I′m pimpin′ this hoe" , it′s about
Gettin′ whats sold and then putting food in ya mouth, check it out
Shit dont quit when the clock is off
Get my chips, dawn to dark
Get dough all day, whether right or wrong gotta
Get paid like a normal job, aye
No checks, just cash
No risk, no tax
Okay, let′s go, we got it
Promotin′ so demonic
Don′t wanna blow no chronic
I′m ′bout to fucking vomit, aye
you want it free on me and then fine but
Not on my time punk, you gotta be out your mind
I′m bringin′ all the heads and watch the crowd
Hands up and they screamin′ out “Styles, Styles, Styles”

You want that shit, but not for free
We don′t take checks or property
So ′bout that mess but not with me
Unless you got that proper fee
And if you can′t come up with it
I can′t make in those purchases
And blow my dough on kicks and shit
It′s all your fault, I′ll make you pay (you got a)

You ain′t been around a while but you aint gettin′ paid and people bite your styles
(You want that shit but not for free)
When you wanna get the check with no respect and all they do is smile
(We don′t take checks or property)
When you wanna give it up say "What the fuck?" and change that radio dial
(So ′bout that mess but not with me)
Well, I′m finally gettin′ paid ′cause I′m up in the game and that′s why many go wild
(Unless you got that proper fee)

[4-Zone:]
I could see you see whats there for real
Infest the bones todays top fake a**
Pimps that should that niggas think they running but
What its he say she say
Huh, playa you mysin up on another horizon
Talkin′ on your pimp payed verizon
Always high, tryin to pimp ho*s
But you aint game on the mic
I be the first to say i aint pimpin
Just got a little juice
Drippin, come through before catching hittin and leave with no bull shittin′
′Cause it makes no sense to me
With your makin love fantasies
First thing, gotta give a light on the side tryin now were red burns on the past weekend
All good aint cold
All cold aint good
Better get it right
All yall aint thanking
Just sippin on da foam late at night

You want that shit, but not for free
We don′t take checks or property
So ′bout that mess but not with me
Unless you got that proper fee
And if you can′t come up with it
I can′t make in those purchases
And blow my dough on kicks and shit
It′s all your fault, I′ll make you pay (you got a)

Дата написания: 25 Февраля 2024 07:42:56

Styles Of Beyond - Playing With Fire

(feat. Apathy, Celph Titled)

[Verse 1: Tak]
Stand back, put the picture my frame
The handcraft of a master, the flicker, the flame
That sell three madman Megadef LP
Monster mash, prop for what? From S.O.B.
Shout to Honeycomb...what would I be without wax?
Just another empty battery shell in the pack
String on the puppet, laughin′, claimin′ I′m all of that
When I know in fact, everything you claim is all crap

[Verse 2: Ryu]
Yo, got the fuse lit, keepin′ it movin′, so
Freakin′ abusive, people are pukin′, so
Sick of the music, suckin′ the fumes in
So don′t get it confused, I′m not you, stupid
Hundred-proof booze in the back, all tipsy
Bring two clips, I′m clappin′ all sixty
Swing through quick and bust if one′s empty
Your chances of leavin′ the club: fifty/fifty

[Verse 3: Apathy]
Wanna fuck around with Hell′s recruits?
I′ll stomp Satan in his face ′till it melts my boots
I′ll use the sun for my throne, universe as my home
And your skull as a crown to adorn my dome
Watch porn with your girl, slip a mickey in her Beck′s
Put a hickey on her neck, then the titties I caress
Under match of ??? set′s, I′m the one the chickies sweat
Make ′em suck it ′till their jaw′s fucked up like 50 Cent′s
Most of you faggots stay postin′ that jacked shit
But when we retaliate, it′s never some rap shit
Swing on your mandible and bring out mechanical
Devices that splices flesh from the intangible
I spark fire like electrical shocks
And ready the glocks, to clash with Connecticut cops
Who on some Brad Pitt shit, so you better go watch
The movie Seven, ′cause you′ll find your wife′s head in a box

[Verse 4: Tak]
Rush you bustas, get touched with nunchucks
You tough tough, askin′ to really get fucked up
Who cares what you been through? I′m goin′ against you, so
Sharpen your skills while I sharpen my Ginsu
Gas and ashes, and medical kits, but see
That′s what happens when chemicals mix
The birth of a strange creature, umbilical split
But for now, the main feature, you said it was sick

[Verse 5: Celph Titled]
The word on the streets is that I′m hellbound, ′cause I bully Christians
But I stay up in the armory, developin′ pulley systems
For launchin′ grenades strategically, onstage with heaters illegally
Got the sound man shook at my vocal frequency
Back at the crib, bitch better strap on a bib
′Cause when I′m bustin′ off, it′s drippin′ off the tip of her chin
Chickens and hens, you know I keep ′em bendin′ over for me
With my chef hat, stuffin′ poultry on the upholstery
Celph Titled′s known as a gangsta to some
I got the powers of the godz, acclimated to one
All these young cats with glocks, tryin′ to clear the floor
I′m old school, when I′m pullin′ out my Fearless Four
Hear the sound of the clap? Bury your face
′Cause the mag that I pack needs a carryin′ case
I′m not from the Aryan race, but I′ll still persecute you
Ride around in the trunk with a little hole to shoot through

[Verse 6: Ryu]
I′m "Word Perfect," back in the circuit
Been...top ten since you were snatchin′ purses
Golf club thug, a nickel and dime hustler
All them mob flicks are makin′ you rhyme tougher
When the nine clicks, you freeze
Two sick emcees, get cool quick when I′m shootin′ the breeze
Who′s this? Ryu and Tak, with Ap and Celph
Spittin′ heat ′till the plastic melt, watch it

[Outro: Tak]
Claim you wanna stay, but you have to go
Grab the gun powder, blast the calico
Time to saddle up, this ain′t a talent show
You wanna battle what? Bullets that travel slow

[Outro 2: Ryu]
Talk, but keep steppin′
Discrete, false perception
Talk, but keep steppin′
Spark with heat weapons

Дата написания: 25 Февраля 2024 07:42:56