Teksty piosenek / X / X-Raided / Terrorist

X-Raided - Terrorist



Tekst piosenki:

Blinded, by the way of the Locs, the haters hold to
   Extinguish the flames, and blow the roof off with smoke
   Whether or not it's West Coast, it's Mad Man fa sho this
   Notice the raw talent, technique, but not no hits
   Critics crack frowns for holdin' the town down
   I'm mad now, just so sick of the same sound
   Formed a method and kept it, use it as a weapon against you
   Bionic issue, to raise above the role of officials
   Chronic fatigue
   Flossin' for nil, innate hatin' chromatic emcees
   I'm chasin' faces of Satan
   Waitin' on Daytons, debatin' whether or not to shoot for the stars
   You know who you are, but you can't keep on jabbin' the jaw
   I worked too hard, everyone carries a bucket of blood
   From the sweat glands of a Mad Man, there ain't no love
   So bizarre, drownin' in a lake called "Hate"
   Shaka Loc and Nefarious without a debate
  
   (X-Raided)
   Right before I bark like a mastie
   With lines harder than mastic
   Spit rhymes like bullets, swell up your chest like mastisses
   I've mastered this rap scene
   Blasted every wack cat I've seen
   I've got the best flow, no match for this West Coast rap King
   And that's fact, not fabricated
   Black Market advocated
   With rhymes to substantiate it
   It's fine, avidly hated
   When I rhyme tragically premeditated raps should be segregated
   Wack emcees and emcees with skills should be separated
   Debated in Hip-Hop Senate
   Empeach all Record label Presidents releasin' as many wack acts as No Limit
   No critic is bein' critical of their pitiful releases
   I'm Siskel and Ebert, two thumbs down, rippin' you into plentiful pieces
   Spit this thesis to the drug pound, flood the mic in a receptacle
   On stage, holdin' my testicles, speakin' in tongues like a processional
   You're facin' inevitable spectacles steppin' to me
   Your mid-section'll be crampin' like it was stretchin'
   When a professional wreckin' the beat
   Tears second to me, we all for total domination, COMPLETE
   Vocal abomination can beat
   With niggas like shootouts in the streets
   Verbal automatic release at least a hundred rounds per discharge
   In hordes, who else you expect to come this hard?
  
   [Chorus 2X: X-Raided + Shaka Loc]
   (X-Raided) Shaka Loc they playa hatin'
   (Shaka Loc) And we's aware of this
   (X-Raided) Cuz what we spit is devastatin'
   (Shaka Loc) And we's aware of this
   (X + Shaka Loc) Beware of this, Shaka Loc and Nefarious we terrorists
   (X-Raided) Fake killas be hesitatin'
   (Shaka Loc) And we's aware of this
  
   (Shaka Loc)
   Dispicable scrutiny, interrogated and major hated
   Strapped across a table unable to illustrate it
   Certified Mad Man, made man, the script, the blue prints, the big hits
   Yearly annual licks
   Get my driver to stop it, the Planet must burn first
   Shatter Earth with terrorist acts, it's the block or the turf
   What makes it worse, is I ain't gotta lay down to hurt you
   The verbal tec shells full of virtue (you better feel me)
   To kill me, all slowly while we sleepin'
   So watch for the heat-seeking scuds while you're creepin'
   Been peepin' out the wicked ways on how you be handlin' business, Midget
   Done focused in on how to get the digits, and did it
   I broke down my heat in pieces
   Now chronicalistically speaking, you should have no liking for this thesis
   Point blank, the bottom line not to understate this project
   Cuz where we at you'z about to wreck
  
   Chorus (.5x)
  
   (X-Raided)
   We deadly, quick to perpatrate like they want to confrontate
   DJ's honor Raided
   I serve emcees to get exonerated
   It's on to me, that rap that your Mama hated
   Cuz I created rhymes about jackin' and comin' after ya
   Doin' things that's crime related
   I'm related to all killas, all thieves, and G's
   Got lyrics in my genes, my Grandma breeds emcees
   Like Dogs, say "Sic Him", I hit him, and split him at the seams
   Go for the jugular, muggin' ya like a New York City scene
   I smother ya like a Mother that doesn't want her kid to inhale
   Tortorous abortion, bodily forcin' you into Hell
   Snortin' and exhale fire like medieval dragons
   We evil Mad Men, for hire we leave people in trash bins
   Leap with ferocity, X-Raided will shock all these trash rappers
   Leave your track with gashes like it was attacked by velociraptors
   I'd be at them platinum ones
   Like Old Dirty Bastard I'ma get a Grammy
   If I gotta run up in the ceremony with a gat and a gun
   Understand me, I make your balls split
   I make your dome shiver
   Split your throat, with a sliver of my platinum plaque
   I slither over tracks like snakes
   Deliver raps with no mistakes
   I'm a cobra spittin' venom in your face
  
   Chorus (.5x)




Lyrics - Nieruchomości - Torebki