Текст песни Evidence, Mad Child, Everlast, Divine St - Bottle Rocket
Evidence, Mad Child, Everlast, Divine St - Bottle Rocket слова песни
[Evidence]Yo the rhyme excursions touch minds like brain surgeonsFeel the lyric teargas - even on clean versionsNo profanit goddamnit hard like granite to the utmostI`m butter on rye - always hired to play the low postI stretch to go the distance yo my lungs are mad elasticI`m dope on plastic like Flex I always keep it classicExpressions in the facial I`m more racial from carribean rhythmsI hit `em with a battered flow padded with circles added twiceI`m nice on ice the line slice your domeAnd separate rhymes from poemsMy life....Ain`t tryin to see no grammy or oscarBest believe these styles will rub off like pastasOn people yo check Dilated EvidenceThe influential rock rhymes in sequential formatYou`ll see the doormat if you acting disaccordinglySomething to the effect of fatboys and disorderlies[Mad Child]I`ll take you from he man to shiraBattlecat to cringerMidevil Messenger, westcoast avengerTake it to the street battle me? That`s a fucking sinGo one round with Mad Child you`ll be sucking windSnapping handcuffs just for de-concentrationThen I broke out the bus - a mental hospital patientOn a weekend pass but I still come sickPsychopathic you`re dealing with a deranged lunaticSoon to kick your teeth in, and then go berserkEven Van Gogh looked at me and said you`re one piece of workSo I said lend me an ear, cause I`m the state of the artFirst I`ll feast on your brain, then rip your body apartThere`s a party of heart stuck inbetween my fangsWrap a rope `round your neck, and you still couldn`t hang`Cause you`re way off track, you need realignmentMurdering masterpieces in solitary confinement[Everlast]I`ll keep your backside open like the english channelI rock the sure shot, I keep it hot like flannelI`ll survey your panel with my foot up in your analYou think it can`t happen? Kid, cause I`m rappin`?Ain`t no gun clappin` cut the jaw jackin`Let the joints get shot and see where it`s notThen kick off your shoes jump off my jockAnd check the new style Whitey Ford`s prone to rockOnce upon a time, not long agoBefore Hip Hop was made for the radioAn MC show had to co-rock the massesUsed to wear a kangol with the clear gazelle glassesSo bang bang boogie up jump the partySomeone clapped off and scattered everybodyDrunk off bacardi, high off the traumaIt`s death from above the livest dive bomberIn the squadron I break formationI get New York love like my name`s Ken Son??At tea?? they rock bells till they break the dawnSteady puffin owl`s and fight hell like spawnMy moves are animated my crew`s reinstatedWhile you cats suspension`s up in my dimensionsWe can ease tensions or we can get rowdySo I`ma keep it on the love and do my duty/doody like howdy[Divine Styler]Direction short term plan regionalize rhyme boardsWith the hordes - I`m satan dynasty killerRefill the chords with the sling on downVenom spit regurgitate def scripts I soundCylinder never python, prevail Mad ChildPhysical justic can`t rush this for nowMove fake of the game time set backs don`t sweat thatGod don`t test that - too much infinite to get atSpace to fills all the members got the illa drillsAnd if you with the rhyme skillBust the revealings of my feelings of these dealingsWill the represent shallI build three phases of deathThe illusion is to sweat that you reflectWhen you feel the veilDivine Styles circumnavigate nine circles of hellYou keep on you don`t stop `cause a nigga never stay staleWudaWudaWudaWudaWudaWudaWhat I`m saying is is that...You ain`t you ain`t ready for that shit (echoes)