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I wanted to share here.
Verse 1: I tend to get a tip of the hat, when in typical fashion I spit that lyrical action to get your ventricles clapping-- I-dentically rapping cats bend over backwards Just to give you something that's inelastic to dance with ...I grasp for having the passion of Blacksmiths And task myself, with fashioning classics Versatility of an actor with accents And act with sense back since my last glimpse Of adolescence, the absence which Added lessons, I could become a master with The shogun with no gun--shoot, straight from the lip with it Trash trap rappers’ll show no resemblance Writtens seen as critical--minimal on the frivolous, When I'm on the rhythm the listener gets a benefit-- Whether it's heard as lyrics or additional percussion My typical production is integral to the function
Verse 2: Killing verses is simple as pressing buttons to jump in the air Konami coding the flow with copious potency there I hope you notice I’m going over the quotes with a pro-fessional flare Pro-fessing it bare No necklaces where my neck is resting, I dare To test the efforts of effers that kept my excellence rare One of a noble few on a very specific mission-- We enter into the system for the sake of composition Not, that competition spilling over into dissin-- Is enough hating here, I’m up for switching up for switching Up for switching up the listener’s disposition with depositions I kept as writtens to self, cause I’m the best conditioned to spit ‘em You’ll pull a ligament tryina get in ‘em--they tight Like jeans for people that favor painted-on denim When I pen ‘em I get the feeling I’m winning already They’re brilliant they paint a picture you can submit ‘em to Getty, credit me
Verse 3: No need for a Player 2, I could slay a crew Lay the rules I’ma decimate ‘em like a plate of food-- By a fat trucker that hasn’t had supper in a vast number Of days since, dropping the casket of his passed mother ...And now his appetite is back after the grief Any rapper that beef, can actually get back-to-the-streets (in an Egyptian pose) I rip through foes, but would rather not though The bigger man can rise above so I must be colossal And I am an apostle, of everything Hip-Hop so I ascertain that mainstream representations are not so Or, not so much at least--bits and pieces of substance leak Fits and starts of a sense of artistic partisanship-- Show the heart is beating beneath the encrusted armor of giltz... And glamour why I put stamina in my stanzas You should be putting hands up see me putting the stats up Kill screen is coming up next, killing the wack stuff he’s--(chorus)
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