[Chorus]
[Verse 1: Twisted Insane]
I could’ve been on psycho Michael shit
Coming up on you, stick a knife up in
You, I stick it right up in your gut
It's funny now you’re tough
These niggers go from mice to men
Stumble across the wicked beats
I’m really up off the leash
I’m [?] off a thunderbird
True, if anyone in my way
And no they don’t wanna see me
They see me, I kill ‘em and fill ‘em
And that’s my word
Shit ‘em out
[?]
Venomous, send ‘em right up into a cathedral
[?]
Nigga I be you
Pulling the trigger
Deliver the bullet to eat you nigga
I, put one up in your eye and write
“Before you die, I’m sticking this dick up inside your wife” (yeah)
She told me she never did like your pipe, man
I kill ‘em in your kitchen and use your knife
Welcome my evil, I pick up the pieces
[?]
I fill up the city with hardcore Brain
[?]
[Chorus]
[Verse 2: Mickey Factz]
Who the dude talking
That be moonwalking
On the beat? spew on the groove thought it
Would be cool for the crew who on it
Too dormant for the new school authors
I been writing like I'm Michael Myers
With a knife inside my hand and I been trying to find the cipher
I can cut and slice the mic before the nicest
Try to even cite the lyrics they been hyping
Ima Viking with a Lycan for a pet
Or a giant from the island of Tibet
See my mind is like a diamond when I find it
I ain't gotta use my iris or my eyelids
When I hit the set
Ima bigger jet
On the internet
Killer vet
Like a high speed chase with an ID face of a silhouette
I been changing with changes
But it ain't nothing like Caitlyn
Ima genius in the making
Like a relative with a Birthday
After April that's a May kin
But it's making
With a G
Like the letter F after letter E
This all facts, with the letter Z
You can call me Zorro on the beat
Or call me Bolo & Bruce Lee
Whole lotta Polo in a new V
With a groupie who never knew me
But she blew me
Like the soup heat
When it's in the pot and it's cooling
Who wanna shot when I'm shooting
You will prolly miss the shot like Ewing
In the playoffs with the Pacers
Reggie Miller shooting haymakers
Naysayers
On the beat like a pacemaker
Hate haters
But it's all good now (wow)
Beard like I'm Samson
If I cut my hair I'll be handsome
With the strength there like a champion
Hands up
[Chorus]
[Verse 3: Emilio Rojas]
Yeah, man, I said I never back down
MAC-11, mimick that sound
When I’m shooting off at the mouth
Ima go ‘til the last round
In the heist with a bad bitch
Gotta keep her on a short leash
Nobody living has got more steez
Better be getting a lot more fees
I have been around the world, I dun lost shit that a hater never had
I ain’t never love a girl so much that I call her “better half”
I ain't never had a cosign
Never had a label that would cut a cheque
But I’ll still touch your whole team like my name was Belichick
I ain't into playing games (told y’all)
I be saying names (role call)
Mother fuckers got high hopes
Set I’m gonna be low, low bar
Never running with the way
Got ‘em running verses back
Weight up on my back
So heavy, that it makes their whole sternum crack (like pow)
[Interlude: Oswin Benjamin]
Mickey, you a fool for what you just did, bro
I'm just gon' try and keep up
Hold up
[Verse 4: Oswin Benjamin]
Life presented me options, had to learn how to choose myself
See this stigmata from the cross roads, found the king of the Jews myself
Pack of M&M's (Eminem's) in arizona for a dollar
Father God I gotta get up outta
The line of fire
Had to find a nigga soul
Walked 8 miles to lose my self (woah)
Oh no
Now I got the glow
Know this Bruce Leeroy got enough soul
I could sho nuff
Fuck a round and make shoe myself
Pray this player make it and I cop a giant crib
Find a room where the plaques’ll go (Plaxico)
For I be the Russell Wilson to my future cheddar bob around and shoot myself (woah)
No I ain't chasing no mo hoes
Shit is dead in the coffin
I ain't chasing no more cheques B, trust, I ain't J.P. Morgan
I could peep the plight through the praise you present, muh fucker keep talking
I'm as big a problem to the game, as stairs is to Steve Hawking (woah)
Life is tragedy without the comedy you know?
Y'all ain't seen this side of me before
Yeezy (easy) playing with you ass holes. I'm the amber rose of sodomy you know?
The kinfolks what I draw for
I played my cards right, now I'm the Uno, I'm the color all these artists draw (for) four
And it's y'alls fault nigga
[Outro]
[Verse 1: Twisted Insane]
I could’ve been on psycho Michael shit
Coming up on you, stick a knife up in
You, I stick it right up in your gut
It's funny now you’re tough
These niggers go from mice to men
Stumble across the wicked beats
I’m really up off the leash
I’m [?] off a thunderbird
True, if anyone in my way
And no they don’t wanna see me
They see me, I kill ‘em and fill ‘em
And that’s my word
Shit ‘em out
[?]
Venomous, send ‘em right up into a cathedral
[?]
Nigga I be you
Pulling the trigger
Deliver the bullet to eat you nigga
I, put one up in your eye and write
“Before you die, I’m sticking this dick up inside your wife” (yeah)
She told me she never did like your pipe, man
I kill ‘em in your kitchen and use your knife
Welcome my evil, I pick up the pieces
[?]
I fill up the city with hardcore Brain
[?]
[Chorus]
[Verse 2: Mickey Factz]
Who the dude talking
That be moonwalking
On the beat? spew on the groove thought it
Would be cool for the crew who on it
Too dormant for the new school authors
I been writing like I'm Michael Myers
With a knife inside my hand and I been trying to find the cipher
I can cut and slice the mic before the nicest
Try to even cite the lyrics they been hyping
Ima Viking with a Lycan for a pet
Or a giant from the island of Tibet
See my mind is like a diamond when I find it
I ain't gotta use my iris or my eyelids
When I hit the set
Ima bigger jet
On the internet
Killer vet
Like a high speed chase with an ID face of a silhouette
I been changing with changes
But it ain't nothing like Caitlyn
Ima genius in the making
Like a relative with a Birthday
After April that's a May kin
But it's making
With a G
Like the letter F after letter E
This all facts, with the letter Z
You can call me Zorro on the beat
Or call me Bolo & Bruce Lee
Whole lotta Polo in a new V
With a groupie who never knew me
But she blew me
Like the soup heat
When it's in the pot and it's cooling
Who wanna shot when I'm shooting
You will prolly miss the shot like Ewing
In the playoffs with the Pacers
Reggie Miller shooting haymakers
Naysayers
On the beat like a pacemaker
Hate haters
But it's all good now (wow)
Beard like I'm Samson
If I cut my hair I'll be handsome
With the strength there like a champion
Hands up
[Chorus]
[Verse 3: Emilio Rojas]
Yeah, man, I said I never back down
MAC-11, mimick that sound
When I’m shooting off at the mouth
Ima go ‘til the last round
In the heist with a bad bitch
Gotta keep her on a short leash
Nobody living has got more steez
Better be getting a lot more fees
I have been around the world, I dun lost shit that a hater never had
I ain’t never love a girl so much that I call her “better half”
I ain't never had a cosign
Never had a label that would cut a cheque
But I’ll still touch your whole team like my name was Belichick
I ain't into playing games (told y’all)
I be saying names (role call)
Mother fuckers got high hopes
Set I’m gonna be low, low bar
Never running with the way
Got ‘em running verses back
Weight up on my back
So heavy, that it makes their whole sternum crack (like pow)
[Interlude: Oswin Benjamin]
Mickey, you a fool for what you just did, bro
I'm just gon' try and keep up
Hold up
[Verse 4: Oswin Benjamin]
Life presented me options, had to learn how to choose myself
See this stigmata from the cross roads, found the king of the Jews myself
Pack of M&M's (Eminem's) in arizona for a dollar
Father God I gotta get up outta
The line of fire
Had to find a nigga soul
Walked 8 miles to lose my self (woah)
Oh no
Now I got the glow
Know this Bruce Leeroy got enough soul
I could sho nuff
Fuck a round and make shoe myself
Pray this player make it and I cop a giant crib
Find a room where the plaques’ll go (Plaxico)
For I be the Russell Wilson to my future cheddar bob around and shoot myself (woah)
No I ain't chasing no mo hoes
Shit is dead in the coffin
I ain't chasing no more cheques B, trust, I ain't J.P. Morgan
I could peep the plight through the praise you present, muh fucker keep talking
I'm as big a problem to the game, as stairs is to Steve Hawking (woah)
Life is tragedy without the comedy you know?
Y'all ain't seen this side of me before
Yeezy (easy) playing with you ass holes. I'm the amber rose of sodomy you know?
The kinfolks what I draw for
I played my cards right, now I'm the Uno, I'm the color all these artists draw (for) four
And it's y'alls fault nigga
[Outro]
( J.A.S. (Just A Star) )
www.ChordsAZ.com