[Verse 1: Horseshoe G.A.N.G.]
Women and gentlemen get to tremblin' the minute the villain is feelin' adrenaline
Cos then I'm peelin' your motherfuckin' melon till there's no more fucking ceiling
I feel like breaking and entering in prison and killing fuckin' Zimmerman
The minute that the motherfucker sentence him
Dismember your limb, uppercut your chin and then
Disfigure your twin, I'm sending 'em synonyms
I'm injuring niggas Penicillin ain't healing em?
Do the running man when I got the gun in hand
Trigger finger itching then I'mma switch it to the other hand
I'm sick as a nigga dicking his own mother Samantha
Cos I'm a motherfucker and the son of Sam
Goddamn, just another ambition
As a writer and I'm the one on that mission
When we enter the building with a million rugged ass henchmen
That's a ten hundred grand entrance
Back with this other transition, vicious
Smacking your mother man listen
When I mutate then it's too late then I chew faces
Back with this gun in hand business
When I send a few strays bullets graze anatomy
Give my gun a raise like it got a change in salary
I be at your door nigga I'm a natural born killer
You can call me Mickey I'mma 38 it's Mallory
My brain is sicker than Casey Anthony
You're not really understanding how deranged I got to be
My crazy family be telepathically handing me
The strategy to erase and enslave humanity
This is the art of war I'mma paint calamity
Hate and tragedy, pain and agony
Then I'mma frame the painting, hang it in Satan's gallery
But I'm not evil, holy like I came from Galilee
Straight insanity give me the fucking steel
Kenny is fucking ill, I
Can't imagine me giving a fuck for real
Willing to bust your grill, blow your dome off your grey, anatomy
Now that motherfucker can't imagine me
Don't tell me to fucking chill
Crip with a thousand riders from the West Side
Steyr under my pillow call it my Bed-stuy
If you got a rebuttal to utter say that shit
Just remember like your music we don't play that shit
H to the O, R-S-E-S-H to the O
E gang we came straight for your ho
We got paper to blow
We in it to win it the minute we came in the door
Fuck you, pay me, pay us the dough
Then it's fuck you, pay me, pay us some more
All you haters should pay up, and pay what you owe
Or get ate up, get sprayed up, and laid up with hoes
I keep it straight up for sho', y'all just straight up for show
Y'all pussy, period, change up your flow
Like a menstrual cycle, straight up ya know
I'm an instrumental psycho
Reminiscent of a nigga named Michael
I'm a thriller, I wake up with flows
And I never make up with hoes
And I put the MAC to your face, that’s how I make up with hoes
Hoes, yea I'm laid up with those
And everyone one of my hoes are A1, ya know
You know I got a centerfold, getting rid of clothes
Nothin' on but them Kenneth Coles
Since day one I go, hard
Wait a minute let me switch gears
When I'm stiff as a board, I give them dick till they sore
I cut em like I'm gripping a sword, a big spear
I should win an award for flyest nigga this year
I'm the shit yeah, my swag is celebrated
When I step up in this bitch every chick cheer
Chit-Chea, girl sit here, lift brazier
Lemme skeet on your tits, let the shit smear
When I'm fuckin a woman, I'm up in her stomach
My dick is in belly, I'm sincere
Y'all not fly, you pricks queer
You couldn’t get a Pretty Woman if you were dressed in rich gear
Your bitch rear, make my snake soft
She never quarreled my mind, you a mime can't talk
Your bitch plain, you can only call my bitch plain
Cos' she fly when she take off
Shall I carry on, I love a landing strip
Feelin airborne, because of cannabis
Fuck the rulebook, laws, we breakin' em
We on some fuck the book, until that paper cum's
I got the heart of Machiavelli, I brought a MAC elevy
You be fallin' like confetti
Whatever you thought of, I bet you we thought of that already
Whatever you started, I bet you we off of that already
You better be ready for the deadliest melodies
But ready or not, I chop you like I brought a damn machete
I fuck pornstars, with stars I 69, like I'm calling back your celly
[Verse 2: Iceman]
So many niggas I got a problem with
Sittin on the top of my llama list
When I'm haukin' spit, from the bottomless pit
To your rims of your dodger fit – blaow
I pull the crowd out of their seats
When I say you're weak, I don’t talk about no calendar speech
Don’t make me turn Super Saiyan
Cos everything that Im saying is suped up
Steroid shots, juiced up
If my verbal had a physical form, it would be chiseled as Thor
One stomp will probably cripple the floor
My jordans put crack in the streets like earthquakes
For jordans put crack in the streets, yeah work pays
I kill rappers like theres no repercussions
I'm in love with death, call it reaper-crushin
[Verse 3: Coniyac]
[Verse 4: BIG PHO]
I'm passed passion, now I'm obsessed with this rapping shit
If I catch you in traffic, that crash will be an accident
I'm sending these murderous paragraphs, by telegraph
Them bullets ain't got no name, lemme get your autograph
Let me explain what these lyrics might do
Perfect aim, right through, you tell me am I getting through to you
Delivery is beautiful, your reaction is suitable
Impact from the mac, push you back like a cuticle
You niggas is cubicle, in my circle you unfamiliar
I don't write bars, nigga I write spears
If you get the point, it kills ya
I'm Alpha and Omega, I'm what weak niggas claiming to be
If God win an award, he goin' get on stage and give thanks to me
[Verse 5: Karelezz]
Hand me the mic and I go crazy when I grab it
I turn into an alien deoxyribonucleicacid
Master this element, selling this rap intelligence
Nobody's half as devilish, definition of what clever is
A mic master, writing in the lines of Nascar
Fuck being a rapper, shoulda been a scientist from NASA
But its C.O.B. official, hit you with lyrical missiles
Bitch I'll never miss you, my shit'll rip through your tissue
And if you don't get it, it's probably so high that God do
Look up, blaow blaow, nigga that's what the COB do
Psycho on the microphone, never leave the microphone
The rap's a billion miles long, I’m cycling my bike home
[Verse 6: P.W.T]
You don’t wanna know me, believe that shit
Cause on the mic I rip that shit
I grip the clip, I load it up I aim the gun I let it buck!
I give a fuck
Not at all
See I’m gonna be the start of your fall
The end and everything in between
You think I’m doing this shit to be mean, NAH
I’m doing it because you’re wack as fuck you a bitch!
When your rhyme is a disaster
I should call your ass Canibus
There’s no way you can handle this
I suggest you don’t talk shit
Even if you’re wearing sandals bitch
I suggest you rock kicks!
I ain't going to fucking battle rap you
I ain't going to make no song about you
I’m the type that will fucking snap and take your family from you
So when you see me, better hit that dough
When I raise that thing, better hit that floor
And this is just a warning to let you know
That the COB is in control
[Verse 7: AD-VICE]
[Verse 8: Sauce Tha Boss]
I’m a boss, you heard, I draw first
They blood across the sidewalk nigga, they call me Sauce Mossberg
My flow the kinda dope you don’t snort
My money stack tall homeboy, we different, your dough short
If I catch you slippin'
I’m sittin' on yo' porch
I’m grippin' that blow torch
You gettin' yo' dome scorched
My team winnin'
Plus Cali’s my home court
I’ll piss on yo' cold corpse
Then dip in a gold porche, playa
You niggas should be watching ya mouth
I’ll pop you if I catch you mention Watts in your mouth
The choppers is out
Shots make you lean wit' it, rock wit' it, skip wit' it like you not from the South
[Verse 9: RO]
Skipped math class but I'm out here doing functions
Balling up hundreds, call it number crunchin'
Throw away money, I'm just shooting at them buckets
Winning like Pacman, fuck them judges
Barely break a sweat, ain't gotta catch my breath
They comin' for my neck, they catch a right and a left
Now that leaves a big L, like a right and a left
And I don't need that stress, you know I'm doing my best
My spear got swag, I'm fresh past death
If you don't hear how dope I am, your ass is deaf
Maybe you just blind, you know you don't go dumb
I put the nozzle on your head, now think under the gun
[Verse 10: Tim West]
I got a mean flow
While I'm pissing on these nigga's don't sweat it
Now that's a peacoat, you need a hero
But I got I feeling, imma' villain
Cos' I'm killing every mother fucker scene bro'
I'm on it, you want it, you need it, I got it
You biting like Tyson bitch
I'm weaving and bobbing
Fuck rolling off a pill, bitch I'm first on the bill (?)
All my nigga's like Buffalo they going for the Bills
You ain't as hot as me, bitch I'm a star
Im shittin' on these nigga's, we call that asstronomy
Tim West, watch me rock it like the bassline
I throw this clock in the trash, now watch me waste time
[Verse 11: One-2]
You’ll get knocked unconscious tryna stop this
Voltron shoulders retractable rocket launchers
God, this monster C.O.B entourage of mobster’s
Oxycotons washed down with shots of vodka, got
Cynical criminal thoughts, a villainous boss
At the round table with good fellas sitting across
Toss ideas back and forth like it was lacrosse
Plots on how to make our pockets thicker than Ross
I’m boo-boo'd up with your bitch in the loft
Lauren Hill ain’t wish it me the killer if I sense the competition is soft
Non-believers will taste grapes of wrath
This .38 will turn your face into a Jason mask
One-Dash
Women and gentlemen get to tremblin' the minute the villain is feelin' adrenaline
Cos then I'm peelin' your motherfuckin' melon till there's no more fucking ceiling
I feel like breaking and entering in prison and killing fuckin' Zimmerman
The minute that the motherfucker sentence him
Dismember your limb, uppercut your chin and then
Disfigure your twin, I'm sending 'em synonyms
I'm injuring niggas Penicillin ain't healing em?
Do the running man when I got the gun in hand
Trigger finger itching then I'mma switch it to the other hand
I'm sick as a nigga dicking his own mother Samantha
Cos I'm a motherfucker and the son of Sam
Goddamn, just another ambition
As a writer and I'm the one on that mission
When we enter the building with a million rugged ass henchmen
That's a ten hundred grand entrance
Back with this other transition, vicious
Smacking your mother man listen
When I mutate then it's too late then I chew faces
Back with this gun in hand business
When I send a few strays bullets graze anatomy
Give my gun a raise like it got a change in salary
I be at your door nigga I'm a natural born killer
You can call me Mickey I'mma 38 it's Mallory
My brain is sicker than Casey Anthony
You're not really understanding how deranged I got to be
My crazy family be telepathically handing me
The strategy to erase and enslave humanity
This is the art of war I'mma paint calamity
Hate and tragedy, pain and agony
Then I'mma frame the painting, hang it in Satan's gallery
But I'm not evil, holy like I came from Galilee
Straight insanity give me the fucking steel
Kenny is fucking ill, I
Can't imagine me giving a fuck for real
Willing to bust your grill, blow your dome off your grey, anatomy
Now that motherfucker can't imagine me
Don't tell me to fucking chill
Crip with a thousand riders from the West Side
Steyr under my pillow call it my Bed-stuy
If you got a rebuttal to utter say that shit
Just remember like your music we don't play that shit
H to the O, R-S-E-S-H to the O
E gang we came straight for your ho
We got paper to blow
We in it to win it the minute we came in the door
Fuck you, pay me, pay us the dough
Then it's fuck you, pay me, pay us some more
All you haters should pay up, and pay what you owe
Or get ate up, get sprayed up, and laid up with hoes
I keep it straight up for sho', y'all just straight up for show
Y'all pussy, period, change up your flow
Like a menstrual cycle, straight up ya know
I'm an instrumental psycho
Reminiscent of a nigga named Michael
I'm a thriller, I wake up with flows
And I never make up with hoes
And I put the MAC to your face, that’s how I make up with hoes
Hoes, yea I'm laid up with those
And everyone one of my hoes are A1, ya know
You know I got a centerfold, getting rid of clothes
Nothin' on but them Kenneth Coles
Since day one I go, hard
Wait a minute let me switch gears
When I'm stiff as a board, I give them dick till they sore
I cut em like I'm gripping a sword, a big spear
I should win an award for flyest nigga this year
I'm the shit yeah, my swag is celebrated
When I step up in this bitch every chick cheer
Chit-Chea, girl sit here, lift brazier
Lemme skeet on your tits, let the shit smear
When I'm fuckin a woman, I'm up in her stomach
My dick is in belly, I'm sincere
Y'all not fly, you pricks queer
You couldn’t get a Pretty Woman if you were dressed in rich gear
Your bitch rear, make my snake soft
She never quarreled my mind, you a mime can't talk
Your bitch plain, you can only call my bitch plain
Cos' she fly when she take off
Shall I carry on, I love a landing strip
Feelin airborne, because of cannabis
Fuck the rulebook, laws, we breakin' em
We on some fuck the book, until that paper cum's
I got the heart of Machiavelli, I brought a MAC elevy
You be fallin' like confetti
Whatever you thought of, I bet you we thought of that already
Whatever you started, I bet you we off of that already
You better be ready for the deadliest melodies
But ready or not, I chop you like I brought a damn machete
I fuck pornstars, with stars I 69, like I'm calling back your celly
[Verse 2: Iceman]
So many niggas I got a problem with
Sittin on the top of my llama list
When I'm haukin' spit, from the bottomless pit
To your rims of your dodger fit – blaow
I pull the crowd out of their seats
When I say you're weak, I don’t talk about no calendar speech
Don’t make me turn Super Saiyan
Cos everything that Im saying is suped up
Steroid shots, juiced up
If my verbal had a physical form, it would be chiseled as Thor
One stomp will probably cripple the floor
My jordans put crack in the streets like earthquakes
For jordans put crack in the streets, yeah work pays
I kill rappers like theres no repercussions
I'm in love with death, call it reaper-crushin
[Verse 3: Coniyac]
[Verse 4: BIG PHO]
I'm passed passion, now I'm obsessed with this rapping shit
If I catch you in traffic, that crash will be an accident
I'm sending these murderous paragraphs, by telegraph
Them bullets ain't got no name, lemme get your autograph
Let me explain what these lyrics might do
Perfect aim, right through, you tell me am I getting through to you
Delivery is beautiful, your reaction is suitable
Impact from the mac, push you back like a cuticle
You niggas is cubicle, in my circle you unfamiliar
I don't write bars, nigga I write spears
If you get the point, it kills ya
I'm Alpha and Omega, I'm what weak niggas claiming to be
If God win an award, he goin' get on stage and give thanks to me
[Verse 5: Karelezz]
Hand me the mic and I go crazy when I grab it
I turn into an alien deoxyribonucleicacid
Master this element, selling this rap intelligence
Nobody's half as devilish, definition of what clever is
A mic master, writing in the lines of Nascar
Fuck being a rapper, shoulda been a scientist from NASA
But its C.O.B. official, hit you with lyrical missiles
Bitch I'll never miss you, my shit'll rip through your tissue
And if you don't get it, it's probably so high that God do
Look up, blaow blaow, nigga that's what the COB do
Psycho on the microphone, never leave the microphone
The rap's a billion miles long, I’m cycling my bike home
[Verse 6: P.W.T]
You don’t wanna know me, believe that shit
Cause on the mic I rip that shit
I grip the clip, I load it up I aim the gun I let it buck!
I give a fuck
Not at all
See I’m gonna be the start of your fall
The end and everything in between
You think I’m doing this shit to be mean, NAH
I’m doing it because you’re wack as fuck you a bitch!
When your rhyme is a disaster
I should call your ass Canibus
There’s no way you can handle this
I suggest you don’t talk shit
Even if you’re wearing sandals bitch
I suggest you rock kicks!
I ain't going to fucking battle rap you
I ain't going to make no song about you
I’m the type that will fucking snap and take your family from you
So when you see me, better hit that dough
When I raise that thing, better hit that floor
And this is just a warning to let you know
That the COB is in control
[Verse 7: AD-VICE]
[Verse 8: Sauce Tha Boss]
I’m a boss, you heard, I draw first
They blood across the sidewalk nigga, they call me Sauce Mossberg
My flow the kinda dope you don’t snort
My money stack tall homeboy, we different, your dough short
If I catch you slippin'
I’m sittin' on yo' porch
I’m grippin' that blow torch
You gettin' yo' dome scorched
My team winnin'
Plus Cali’s my home court
I’ll piss on yo' cold corpse
Then dip in a gold porche, playa
You niggas should be watching ya mouth
I’ll pop you if I catch you mention Watts in your mouth
The choppers is out
Shots make you lean wit' it, rock wit' it, skip wit' it like you not from the South
[Verse 9: RO]
Skipped math class but I'm out here doing functions
Balling up hundreds, call it number crunchin'
Throw away money, I'm just shooting at them buckets
Winning like Pacman, fuck them judges
Barely break a sweat, ain't gotta catch my breath
They comin' for my neck, they catch a right and a left
Now that leaves a big L, like a right and a left
And I don't need that stress, you know I'm doing my best
My spear got swag, I'm fresh past death
If you don't hear how dope I am, your ass is deaf
Maybe you just blind, you know you don't go dumb
I put the nozzle on your head, now think under the gun
[Verse 10: Tim West]
I got a mean flow
While I'm pissing on these nigga's don't sweat it
Now that's a peacoat, you need a hero
But I got I feeling, imma' villain
Cos' I'm killing every mother fucker scene bro'
I'm on it, you want it, you need it, I got it
You biting like Tyson bitch
I'm weaving and bobbing
Fuck rolling off a pill, bitch I'm first on the bill (?)
All my nigga's like Buffalo they going for the Bills
You ain't as hot as me, bitch I'm a star
Im shittin' on these nigga's, we call that asstronomy
Tim West, watch me rock it like the bassline
I throw this clock in the trash, now watch me waste time
[Verse 11: One-2]
You’ll get knocked unconscious tryna stop this
Voltron shoulders retractable rocket launchers
God, this monster C.O.B entourage of mobster’s
Oxycotons washed down with shots of vodka, got
Cynical criminal thoughts, a villainous boss
At the round table with good fellas sitting across
Toss ideas back and forth like it was lacrosse
Plots on how to make our pockets thicker than Ross
I’m boo-boo'd up with your bitch in the loft
Lauren Hill ain’t wish it me the killer if I sense the competition is soft
Non-believers will taste grapes of wrath
This .38 will turn your face into a Jason mask
One-Dash
( C.O.B )
www.ChordsAZ.com