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Текст песни Afu-Ra - Poisonous Taoist

Afu-Ra - Poisonous Taoist слова песни

[Chorus 4X: scratched up samples]"Poisonous taoist!" "Afu-Ra!""The body of the life force!"[Afu-Ra]The body of the life force, scientifical street niggaI walk with a limp, no pimp sign, I`m an urban gorillaRough and rugged, plus I keep it realer than realerStomp these streets, I`m known as a mic killerWith vintage lines, that vintage rhymeBlack circles around rap camps, I be the lord of the rhymeWhose the prettiest, baddest, most more, know downG-O-D, Blackie Chan, watch me shut it downIncredible, my credit is credibly crediblePut hoes up in the track, like heavy metal doCats act up, I hit `em with the John WooYo, I chop `em up, hit `em up, and rip `em upThe Lion King`s in town, boy, it`s murder on the sound boySo line your favorite cottage rappers to sing itLike Keith Murray; my Def Jams, they will get in yaI slice and dice my competition like a ninja[Chorus 2X][Afu-Ra]Now let me introduce you, to the man, the myth, the mentalInfluential, bi-centinial, lyrical spiritual materialHittin` you like a literal miracleSettin` fire to the streets, that`s my ritualFossils of my rap book, left for anthropoligistsShow `em how amazing the jazz, I`m blazing the hooksHeavily heavily, intertwine with the melodyDeadly deadly, kill the tracks with my medlyGive me that mic fool, you only stuntin` and frontin`Fluffin` and bluffin`, and ain`t sayin nothing, stop frontingThe way I shoot the gift, I`m sick with thisI make crowds flip, I`m a hip hop therapistAnd you can do the hustle, freak ya body, bounceBut I gotta spit fire, so I`m sure to get ya every ounceI`m worth my weight, and gold and all it`s lusterStep up in the place (Woo-Hah) like I`m Busta[Chorus 4X][Afu-Ra]Hold up, wait, the sounds kinda knockingDreaded they up in the club, let`s get it poppin`Jolting compositions as if I was a virusOne breathe to raise the dead, those try to ride thisand of course, I take it back to the hoodAfu riggedy Ra, in the hood, raw like a porno isA wild brother but I dip like a corn fiddleTrey eight, snubnose, type of flow, get a gun, thoughI`m nasty, as we had it with thisI eat rappers, alive, as if my name was Hannibal, kidPerverted Monk, medicating in the cutFlying guillotine raps, aiyo, I cut shit upMasterin` the art, technique dycatomyStraight up yo, I`m bout to catch a body like GottiAt home in my zone, who feel the ecstasyExplicitly, the lyrical telepathy[Chorus 4X]

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