Strangeulation II feat. Godemis,Stevie Stone,MURS,Brotha Lynch Hung

歌詞

Devil! Prayin' that 12-12 for hell Felon to sell and slept on a bed of nails like nothing I've ever felt Ghost in a shell, was molded with other demons as if I needed some help or a host to preserve the heathen Got it, my brain is rotted I swear to God that I'm not it I'm set to go to the gallow as soon as the rope is knotted I ain't high as the fire and I have unused adrenaline Came in the cypher clean, still smelling like putrid cinnamon Then I'm in, enemy of the state, I'm straight at an angle Stop risking and quit your bitchin', it ain't like I'm raping an Angel Said I was magnifique, ya'll fuckin' with it, kapeesh Stevie Stone I'm on it I'm so clever Nobody comparing 'em better I put shit together America's most elaborated rap pick yo head up Small talkin' to get you wet up Yeah, I'm will to kill all you niggas The feelin', adrenaline that'll spillin' a milli yeah I mill' all you niggas Ain't even reach out they climax rather my sillin' on niggas And backin' a back on back can't billy you niggas Get busy on niggas This ain't no random some leekage Stonie in the building the bitches pull out their cleavage The snake and the bat you see them prominent features The spieces Strangeland we rain on your region Meatwagon I come I be taggin' 'em Baggin' 'em bring 'em clusters of three Got three magnums gaggin' em out You pussies is still talkin' I'm draggin' 'em out I'm tappin' 'em out Aww shit, they fucked around and signed a backpacker Smart, rich, handsome, plus he's not a bad rapper I'm just a little local talent that fucked around and made it big Underground bully, pickin' on all these famous kids And the danger is, Now I'm doin' Strange a biz? About to make the world forget about what a major is Independent Powerhouse, running all these cowards out My enemies are all forgotten, wishin' I would shout em out And I don't want to hear a rapper harmonize unless He thuggish, ruggish, Lazy, Krayzie, Bizzy, Wish or Flesh But maybe I'm just hatin' cuz my black ass could never sing Fuck that autotune I hope the Futures filled with better things And you a fucking liar if you say you found a better team Impossible! Like trying to fit my dick inside my wedding ring And all the bread it brings will be distributed and properly I represent for hip hop not some fucking aristocracy I'm the Martin Scorsese of rap, rap predator Better than severin' the reverend with a jackknife Kevin and eleven of 'em revvin' up the engines we bubblin' up like 7-Up Then when we shoot that shit we eat that shit for din--din-ner I don't need no fuckin' "Ok", are you serious, I'm okay I'mma make you bleed like it's your period, period I eat period pussy so eating you ain't serious What you need for me to flip that shit and rip that shit Like a skitzo stick that shit, that shit like a automatic pistol grip No, I created this fast rap, I'm past that I put a gat in that asscrack and blast that I'm lightyears ahead of 'em, might use the head of 'em I lose, then you can keep the breadcrumb My nigga I'm a carnivore, ready for any kind of war, any kind of score