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Styles of Beyond - Bleach lyrics
[Verse 1: Takbir] Yo, swing the sword for the classic year Bring the noise with your hands up, slash and tear Who can, fathom asthma, dash for air Spittin' on the baby bib in the plastic chair What's up stupid? (Shoot this) 1-5-1 in the shot glass (Hot flash) Bangin' on the drum, huh We cause havoc down in Las Vegas Paper trails racing Pelican Brief-cases We outrageous, name the streets gave us Yeah, we got fame, but now we heat blazers I let 'em all fly, 10 in the clip, 1 in the chamber Thumbs up! Another banger Untuck the flamer, dumbfuck It's like gettin' with a dumptruck Brains and guts Maim, cut, aim, duck, same, stuff Get you cracked up like cocaine, heat 'em up OK, I'll let a sucka's fly once Face down, found him in his Cap'n Crunch Uh, malpractice - a bang-all jam I joust rappers and track in the radar scans Flip beats for the crew like fleets and platoons Reach for the moon like Reese Witherspoon, uh Don't stop the sure-shot, the (???) anthem Blast the gold box, cock back the cannon What's up partna, I got ya (what, what) Hope that (spoken gunshots) crack the piata Slap, box, mouth of backwash Teeth mashed up on the asphalt, ya dig? Set the pace like a mustang, mashin' Up the stakes, who wanna cut the cake, I take cash Dropped on a blood-stained mattress Stop, you ain't got access, watch I'mma change my asset, Ryu and Tak You little cunts in the game, you can suck my cum And lay flat on the ground, don't make 'em peep If you want the stains out now, get the bleach Guess who's got the rubber gloves and the bleach? Guess who's rockin every club, that's me Get so hot, you feel the buzz in |
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