[Intro: SIRebrum, Maxim]
Lyrically I've ascended the Azure, but you never got farther
At this instant, we are hovering above, we are the reason the Group got Fostered
Now face the wrath of Gods for those bogus pretensions, you turned your back on an armed Laager
Extinguisher, get drowned in your sakes, this Imperial blew your back: Kingfisher
M-M-MVR
[Verse: Barsonist, Sawney Slasher, SIRebrum]
Trigger happy, hit point-blank, the bloodshed's come to a verse
Bitch, at times you'll write, know your hardly guardеd bars would/wood be Quakers (Would be Quakеrs)
Them flummadiddles (Haha!) get lumbago, tried to run game huh?
Grew too high, rappers in danger/endangered, get by 'em bones to pick, know we still scissor-jack Daniel's/sieze a Jack Daniels
Call for assist, I'll fucking go "No Vaseline", it's cold weather; hot waters
To all who's to plan some cheap sham, we could get to face-tan balls on 'em
Ki-Kick more buckets, who's whichever penned up rhyme, don't fool with Bars', toddler
So while I'm setting in, know rappers, all due honor; fuckboys (Haha!), it's too late to sound off, hold it
Inking post-radical vocal lines, uniface to-to all these Serpentes
New-new rubber bands, pull the fucks, bet it, Bobby, shit'll snap, bitch I turn up the card with paired ones
Down to knees next to Siri's poor pen (Yeah), try that (Woo) like that Zack Ryder (Haha!)
Feed off of catshit critics, go at 'em starved, y'all tonight I'm past diners
Try sparring they better know pain, youth head watch it, I'm giving this the rabbit punch
Fool, I'd do you asleep on a beat, doubt it? Cache/cash it off, my skill of penning warps a cabbage, son
Listen, shit ain't simple, my thick skin contains warrior, rappers I'm calibred/Cal Hubbard
Get boxed, I'll come gunning it, shit must level 'em pa-packers, say at their hut-hut-hut-hut-hut-hut!
I-I-I'M JUST INTRODUCING YOU TO BARS!
Like Superbowl, practice wrapping/rapping daily, the Cellos I'm packing nuts (Nuts)
Holster lyrics that ether, my inkstick it's lethal, (Doom!) when it's padded much
Bitch this that roll/role play I'm Sharp, for lined-up rappers, this time my can did/candid blur-r-r-r-r-r
Snap like how Mustafa Abdul' clicks I'm back, set the level best (Yeah)
Far off lil goons, fools lobbing shade/lobbying shade? Delusion; are no Eminems (Ge-get it?)
At times, wrote while searching H-O-P-E, replenished pens
Unlike those with the dying words — "No I won't make it" — fuel self that faith in, shred 'em then
Ball up the paper, go walking, foes I'll address, psych, no gimmicks (Uh-uh)
Bring it on, whoever step in, fucking psych, I'll get to bodying
Like Griselda does, hella serious, us filmin' it, two words: The Goat; my o-o-o-only pic/pick
We-we shootin' these hecklers, why not? Let it aim, flash on that face, you seen homie's click/clique?
My gang toll eight bells in this thing, no regrets, sail/sale has begun, get torn in bits/bids
B-B-B-Barson' nothin' but Blount's, thereupon run bitch, taking no notice, noting this (Haha!)
Psych, they do not know sky's too high to be in, that's why me I'm who's fed up goatmilk, bitch
My big balls what I got, do verbose strike-downs 'cause roll's/role's too skilled, fact, they'll call ya — Bowling Pins
Beat the drum, for rap sheets, now my quill's/Mike WiLL's some ten times greater (Eardrumm—)
Bother us ever? (Nope) Block it out! Wo-wo-work middle fingers up, I get these haters
Sent nighty-nights, my pissed-about weans, I'm nappin' 'em, that's my bed n' breakfast
Shit syllables on 'em like Aladeen, I'm that pen precise, just like every jailer
Use of fucking compounds was to totally hit 'em, B don't play, that's that, get the Rode/road when I clutch
Tearin' off this roof you seek, your stepfather (Yeah), ki-kids will sleep, time has come, no lie—lie 'cause
Bet you'll wish to ink those poor raps, ego bleeding?
Swear to God, how that hurt? Would you hold the mic 'cause
With this man, come 'round knowin' I'll load the words like rounds of Howa sniper
[Outro: Barsonist, Sawney Slasher, Maxim]
Hey-hey-hey Sawney, you wanna talk to 'em? Mic's yours
Look, Bars' been upgraded
You clowns just normals
Hov made us do it, yeah
Clip loaded, Volumes' under making, yeah
Who got the best caliber? You? Psych
Who's yo dad? My youngest baby, haha! Yeah
Hip Hop Konsensus
3OC
SKripture
SIRebrum
M-M-MVR
Yeah, 'til next time, B
Lyrically I've ascended the Azure, but you never got farther
At this instant, we are hovering above, we are the reason the Group got Fostered
Now face the wrath of Gods for those bogus pretensions, you turned your back on an armed Laager
Extinguisher, get drowned in your sakes, this Imperial blew your back: Kingfisher
M-M-MVR
[Verse: Barsonist, Sawney Slasher, SIRebrum]
Trigger happy, hit point-blank, the bloodshed's come to a verse
Bitch, at times you'll write, know your hardly guardеd bars would/wood be Quakers (Would be Quakеrs)
Them flummadiddles (Haha!) get lumbago, tried to run game huh?
Grew too high, rappers in danger/endangered, get by 'em bones to pick, know we still scissor-jack Daniel's/sieze a Jack Daniels
Call for assist, I'll fucking go "No Vaseline", it's cold weather; hot waters
To all who's to plan some cheap sham, we could get to face-tan balls on 'em
Ki-Kick more buckets, who's whichever penned up rhyme, don't fool with Bars', toddler
So while I'm setting in, know rappers, all due honor; fuckboys (Haha!), it's too late to sound off, hold it
Inking post-radical vocal lines, uniface to-to all these Serpentes
New-new rubber bands, pull the fucks, bet it, Bobby, shit'll snap, bitch I turn up the card with paired ones
Down to knees next to Siri's poor pen (Yeah), try that (Woo) like that Zack Ryder (Haha!)
Feed off of catshit critics, go at 'em starved, y'all tonight I'm past diners
Try sparring they better know pain, youth head watch it, I'm giving this the rabbit punch
Fool, I'd do you asleep on a beat, doubt it? Cache/cash it off, my skill of penning warps a cabbage, son
Listen, shit ain't simple, my thick skin contains warrior, rappers I'm calibred/Cal Hubbard
Get boxed, I'll come gunning it, shit must level 'em pa-packers, say at their hut-hut-hut-hut-hut-hut!
I-I-I'M JUST INTRODUCING YOU TO BARS!
Like Superbowl, practice wrapping/rapping daily, the Cellos I'm packing nuts (Nuts)
Holster lyrics that ether, my inkstick it's lethal, (Doom!) when it's padded much
Bitch this that roll/role play I'm Sharp, for lined-up rappers, this time my can did/candid blur-r-r-r-r-r
Snap like how Mustafa Abdul' clicks I'm back, set the level best (Yeah)
Far off lil goons, fools lobbing shade/lobbying shade? Delusion; are no Eminems (Ge-get it?)
At times, wrote while searching H-O-P-E, replenished pens
Unlike those with the dying words — "No I won't make it" — fuel self that faith in, shred 'em then
Ball up the paper, go walking, foes I'll address, psych, no gimmicks (Uh-uh)
Bring it on, whoever step in, fucking psych, I'll get to bodying
Like Griselda does, hella serious, us filmin' it, two words: The Goat; my o-o-o-only pic/pick
We-we shootin' these hecklers, why not? Let it aim, flash on that face, you seen homie's click/clique?
My gang toll eight bells in this thing, no regrets, sail/sale has begun, get torn in bits/bids
B-B-B-Barson' nothin' but Blount's, thereupon run bitch, taking no notice, noting this (Haha!)
Psych, they do not know sky's too high to be in, that's why me I'm who's fed up goatmilk, bitch
My big balls what I got, do verbose strike-downs 'cause roll's/role's too skilled, fact, they'll call ya — Bowling Pins
Beat the drum, for rap sheets, now my quill's/Mike WiLL's some ten times greater (Eardrumm—)
Bother us ever? (Nope) Block it out! Wo-wo-work middle fingers up, I get these haters
Sent nighty-nights, my pissed-about weans, I'm nappin' 'em, that's my bed n' breakfast
Shit syllables on 'em like Aladeen, I'm that pen precise, just like every jailer
Use of fucking compounds was to totally hit 'em, B don't play, that's that, get the Rode/road when I clutch
Tearin' off this roof you seek, your stepfather (Yeah), ki-kids will sleep, time has come, no lie—lie 'cause
Bet you'll wish to ink those poor raps, ego bleeding?
Swear to God, how that hurt? Would you hold the mic 'cause
With this man, come 'round knowin' I'll load the words like rounds of Howa sniper
[Outro: Barsonist, Sawney Slasher, Maxim]
Hey-hey-hey Sawney, you wanna talk to 'em? Mic's yours
Look, Bars' been upgraded
You clowns just normals
Hov made us do it, yeah
Clip loaded, Volumes' under making, yeah
Who got the best caliber? You? Psych
Who's yo dad? My youngest baby, haha! Yeah
Hip Hop Konsensus
3OC
SKripture
SIRebrum
M-M-MVR
Yeah, 'til next time, B
( Barsonist )
www.ChordsAZ.com