[Hook]
War on the microphone, choose your weapon ah
War on the microphone, choose your weapon ah
War on the microphone, choose your weapon ah
War on the microphone
[Verse 1]
The depths of my Black Book equals an ocean
Strong verbal aggressor with the pacifist notion
Plans I devise to uprise and lift
Scams I despise corrupt lives and riff
Never inept, never slept, never need a gun
Followers fake because I'm making their leader run
Deep on the topic but never posed as a prophet
Concepts kick through common sense, so I drop it
Misunderstood because I'm far from generic
Categorised as lethal legend of a lyric
You should abide to the rule that apply to
Your crew as I guide with side one and side two
But even with that, these suckers constantly ride me
Flipping my LP in search of a Side 3
'90 is through, I'm crushing you and your tiny scores
Slapped you through '93, be there to catch you in '94
Thoughts in my head backed up like traffic
Rap book plastic, memory photographic
The unachievable to me is none believable
'Cause what can't be achieved by K is non-conceivable
Able to reach by reality or blind faith
Be it concrete, abstract, or a mind state
Total separation of thoughts avoid collisions
Mental incisions create sub-divisions
Of my brain which allowed me to demonstrate the know-how
Busting through a wack life crew like a snowplow
Mic is a sword, rhythm rap book my shield
While you're sweating to hold nine yards, trick 'em downfield
Never letting my head get boosted
The whole damn album, K and Dope produced it
I take a malnourished beat and feed it
Break out the ice cream and milk, I need it
Kick
[Hook]
War on the microphone, choose your weapon ah
War on the microphone, choose your weapon ah
War on the microphone, choose your weapon ah
War on the microphone (choose your weapon, uh)
[Verse 2]
Five elements: life, health, strength, mind, and deepness
Memorize what I emphasize, don't sweep this
Under the rug 'cause it'll lump up
Vocal combinations translated into two words: Jump Up
Information I'm consuming is looming
In me, 'cause ain't enough room in the brain of a normal human
Thoughts bionic, twice as potent as gin and tonic
Psychological booms are sonic, brain tumors are chronic
The administrator, hit a later, proper waiter flow
Call K the bloodstream contaminator
Pay the cost of dissing while I flex my dialects
Equivalent to ten train wrecks in emcees necks
Lyrical touches expose your two equipments, such as
Wheelchairs, respirators, IVs, and crutches
Definition I'm the main black you aimed at
Sent a thousand suckers, not one of them came back
All opposition alluded me, excluded me
From rhyming activity thinking they executed me
But K is the prodigy giving punks a lobotomy
Once received an apology from a bullet that shot at me
I'm breaking up pieces, high priest of a thesis
Voice range releases, death rate increases
Feel a diss, the realist swings with a killer fist
Never missed when pissed, mercenary ventriloquist
No re-enactment it's actual battery
Glad to be the highest majesty of a tragedy
Poetically socialized, mobilized, I'm noble wise
Double my size, I'll visualize through a thousand eyes
Give me room to stick, you'll be who I'm soon to pick
Sign language communicating bulletproof lunatic
Artillery room stocked with weaponry
Those who step at me are stabbed to death with mental telepathy
You face the ace lyrical high-speed chase
Erase one who fabricates, corruptiveness I embrace
The free worded overexerted, overruler of verdicts
Suckers flirted and found out that lyrics hurted
Yo, any game is a fair game
Tie me up and drop me in a live volcano from an airplane
Yo, and I’ll live to untangle, return to strangle
And square off the Bermuda Triangle
Yo, vocalism creates a prism
Tactician of demolition, breaker of ambition
Title snatcher conflict, catcher K-Rino is a cat
Certain attack, you want your tongue, I’ll mail it back
[Hook]
War on the microphone, choose your weapon ah
War on the microphone, choose your weapon ah
[Outro]
Them picking an axe, them picking a stick and they hit 47
But me weapon is me tongue, me critical radical lyrical gun
Make a verse with one million and make critical styles
K-Rino me I'm the Father and me Black Book the child
I'm bringing the dominant lyrical legacy
Making the melodramatic vocalists bite the dust, man
It's critical quick to call man
War on the microphone, choose your weapon ah
War on the microphone, choose your weapon ah
War on the microphone, choose your weapon ah
War on the microphone
[Verse 1]
The depths of my Black Book equals an ocean
Strong verbal aggressor with the pacifist notion
Plans I devise to uprise and lift
Scams I despise corrupt lives and riff
Never inept, never slept, never need a gun
Followers fake because I'm making their leader run
Deep on the topic but never posed as a prophet
Concepts kick through common sense, so I drop it
Misunderstood because I'm far from generic
Categorised as lethal legend of a lyric
You should abide to the rule that apply to
Your crew as I guide with side one and side two
But even with that, these suckers constantly ride me
Flipping my LP in search of a Side 3
'90 is through, I'm crushing you and your tiny scores
Slapped you through '93, be there to catch you in '94
Thoughts in my head backed up like traffic
Rap book plastic, memory photographic
The unachievable to me is none believable
'Cause what can't be achieved by K is non-conceivable
Able to reach by reality or blind faith
Be it concrete, abstract, or a mind state
Total separation of thoughts avoid collisions
Mental incisions create sub-divisions
Of my brain which allowed me to demonstrate the know-how
Busting through a wack life crew like a snowplow
Mic is a sword, rhythm rap book my shield
While you're sweating to hold nine yards, trick 'em downfield
Never letting my head get boosted
The whole damn album, K and Dope produced it
I take a malnourished beat and feed it
Break out the ice cream and milk, I need it
Kick
[Hook]
War on the microphone, choose your weapon ah
War on the microphone, choose your weapon ah
War on the microphone, choose your weapon ah
War on the microphone (choose your weapon, uh)
[Verse 2]
Five elements: life, health, strength, mind, and deepness
Memorize what I emphasize, don't sweep this
Under the rug 'cause it'll lump up
Vocal combinations translated into two words: Jump Up
Information I'm consuming is looming
In me, 'cause ain't enough room in the brain of a normal human
Thoughts bionic, twice as potent as gin and tonic
Psychological booms are sonic, brain tumors are chronic
The administrator, hit a later, proper waiter flow
Call K the bloodstream contaminator
Pay the cost of dissing while I flex my dialects
Equivalent to ten train wrecks in emcees necks
Lyrical touches expose your two equipments, such as
Wheelchairs, respirators, IVs, and crutches
Definition I'm the main black you aimed at
Sent a thousand suckers, not one of them came back
All opposition alluded me, excluded me
From rhyming activity thinking they executed me
But K is the prodigy giving punks a lobotomy
Once received an apology from a bullet that shot at me
I'm breaking up pieces, high priest of a thesis
Voice range releases, death rate increases
Feel a diss, the realist swings with a killer fist
Never missed when pissed, mercenary ventriloquist
No re-enactment it's actual battery
Glad to be the highest majesty of a tragedy
Poetically socialized, mobilized, I'm noble wise
Double my size, I'll visualize through a thousand eyes
Give me room to stick, you'll be who I'm soon to pick
Sign language communicating bulletproof lunatic
Artillery room stocked with weaponry
Those who step at me are stabbed to death with mental telepathy
You face the ace lyrical high-speed chase
Erase one who fabricates, corruptiveness I embrace
The free worded overexerted, overruler of verdicts
Suckers flirted and found out that lyrics hurted
Yo, any game is a fair game
Tie me up and drop me in a live volcano from an airplane
Yo, and I’ll live to untangle, return to strangle
And square off the Bermuda Triangle
Yo, vocalism creates a prism
Tactician of demolition, breaker of ambition
Title snatcher conflict, catcher K-Rino is a cat
Certain attack, you want your tongue, I’ll mail it back
[Hook]
War on the microphone, choose your weapon ah
War on the microphone, choose your weapon ah
[Outro]
Them picking an axe, them picking a stick and they hit 47
But me weapon is me tongue, me critical radical lyrical gun
Make a verse with one million and make critical styles
K-Rino me I'm the Father and me Black Book the child
I'm bringing the dominant lyrical legacy
Making the melodramatic vocalists bite the dust, man
It's critical quick to call man
( K-Rino )
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