Chops Marches On

歌詞

(feat. Kev Turner) [Kev Turner] Who in the world want war With this thorough Philly boar Underground like the earth's core I took the elevator up to the first floor What in life do you search for? What have you been put on this earth for? How much of America's money are we getting paid to work for? Corporate conglomerate, ?? link becoming dominant I'm an MC you don't wanna have a problem with I speak spuriously, sign and shine gloriously Spitting vomit that's thicker than mucous Paint oil pictures of the future clearer than George Lucas To the day that we all become human computers And freedom of speech will be obsolete cause we be muted Yo, I eats, sleeps and breathes raw inner city music The flow that I spits is not to be confused with Commercial radio rap put out for your amusement God gave me a brain so I'ma use it [Hook: scratched] Who in the world want war [x7] With this thorough Philly boar [Verse 2] I gets do-o-own like the diaboloical B-I-Z M-izza M-izza-A-R-K-I-E Trapped behind these bars of life, can't say that I'm free Cause when I wake up, hell on earth every day I see In this 360-degree sphere of fear, beware Of things falling near, and stay prepared for the worst So much vital information you could find in each verse Before I die I bury my rhymes beneath the dirt Indestructible, ? on God's green earth Your local war machines, like me, can't be hurt Catch me in the Library of Congress doing research In DC, in a P.E. "Fight the Power" t-shirt Copyrighting everything I write, so y'all can't bite I'm here to shed light, ain't no stopping with a red light Hip-hop heads get hyped - it's Kev Turner No relation to Ike, when I strike I might murder [Hook] [Verse 3] Q dimensions stay coming off Like female porno star's panties and bras Pop Dukes, old school, straight "son"ning y'all With new school lyrical tools leavin you stuck without a gun to draw You don't wanna ball with these words, they hit hard Doin away with ? , then punk bruises and scars Gang war, you better call it a truce, use your smarts I'm two thousand and two tons of lyrical art That'll crush your heart and discourage your courage Destroy your sole purpose on this eartly surface The rawest, I'm flawless call me Mr. Perfect Cock back, my style goes off on the track, straight murk it We the current that circles through the underground circuit Fill the streets full with serpents that feel life is worthless When it's really just as precious as birth is, but first things first Drown in the depths of the sounds of these verses [Hook: scratched to end]