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Cunninlynguists - 616 Rewind lyrics
f/ Celph Titled, Tonedeff, Sankofa, Kashal-Tee [Tonedeff] Yo, first I sprinkle a verse By adding words, rhymes Flippin 'em in to a verse with lines Then ima hit 'em with spurts rhyme Then ima let 'em and split 'em and add Feelin my wrath Vagrantly depart to the south so dirty You want to be given a bath Give it a pathelogical lie to deny that i'm nice And the truth hurts (ow) Wearin' a blue shirt the best buy for the price Figure, Six guys this live and nice on the mic So don't dis us because we're fly, Until you try what it's like I'm liable to Slice at these emcee bastards Leaving their knees fractured Needing every peice of their teeth re-crafted So don't front 'cause I see past it You're harmless like wolverines adamantium claws Yhen they're retracted The scene's backlit, It seems static will wreack havoc A beat battered, I'll keep rappin' In leech battle, will dreams shatter In three nanoseconds (damn) Count your patients, One step to Tonedeff You're gone in sixty seconds like (?) [Deacon] I leave you riddled with basics There's no need for complexity To be beside myself I need God next to me Just kiddin' I'm patially bull shittin' The only time I take a loss pussy's When I lose kittens I pitch shit past 'ya, no matter who's hittin I don't capsize boats, But I got crews flippin' You catch it? the message needs analisation Step and your boys will be pouring alcoholic libations I flew sick, you knew this I'll puzzle you, doofus Fuck mental In the stretcher went to a physical (?) It will take more than stick to rearrange it then change it His language is so strange, how do we contain it? You can't just paint this stuff up on a canvas You have to get the mental picture To begin to understand this So, Anticipate defeat, the league chances Got your head speared, no lances Doing burial dances [sankofa] I'm giving fourty like with speech imediments Each other threat causes confident cats to stutter, Step caught a reputation down the sides: Too raw for porn, over thugs plates of leftovers Eat some warm dober Thug's a jaded wordsmith, Bleeding ghost writer's pen's dry Get on other rapper's nerves Corroding dead, dryed sweat My thoughts connect, You ought to step away fast, It seems I gave cats "hey that's the way they make tracks" Forget a scare, I'm not generous, kid Split society of (?) and indented in (?) Independently sick And this is just a quick reminder If you was to pick a cipher Then I'll bust you quick to write yours All expenses paid, no questions asked I'll get open in the cut and we can flesh your gash Cat, relax. Man, the last time I took a breather I got brought up on murder charges Start the crooked finger [Kno] Yo, I'm not the fella to rifF with I'm so nice Mr. Rogers sued my ass For copyright infringement Roll with henchemen, Not, we'll switch heads From wanna be thugs to 24/7 bitch kids I'll bring my shitlist Production cat bastards want jiggy beats For some whack rappers Switch my style if you're tryin' to play, My beats will maraud your ass any time of day Like deuce Biggalow's chick, Whenever your through shit People see you and holler "That's one huge bitch!" Shit, when the lp rolls out The source will be forced to make the quotables A three page fold-out No doubt, I'm fed up with this whack shit Ballin the next gear, wearing abercrombie and fitch Any Jiggy rapper acting fly on the radio Is getting pulled out of rotation like a firestone radial [Kashal Tee] Catch the Tee, the hip hop scene I fathom Let people know my windows belt keeps my jeans from sagging It seems I'm raggin, But feinds been naggin' for my next release I apply all my expertise to make them extra pleased Even get the breaks to peace that make a brother feel this All I do is independent, like double helix Selling out? well I hope that you're not But how else could you afford all the soap that you drop? You cant fuck wit me, yo, kid look Taking me out aint no small feat, you aint bigfoot You should know who the heck you're facing 'cause my reputation leaves no room for speculation Now battle, is that you want to do? What kind of man are you? I bet you sit on (?) Now that it's proven to you You got a lot to tell us, Them got your heart skipping beats like accapellas [Celph-titled] I'll be a mythic author, Writing poems on tombstones Celph-titled and, nigga you couldn't bring home I'm at the crib wit your bitch givin' me slow head Split you up in more peices than when Jesus broke bread My click is raw, be prepared when you meet us Kill an unborn baby and you still couldn't de-fetus (ooh) I don't battle with rhymes, I'd rather battle with nines Instead of using my mind I'd rather shatter your spine The closest you ever came to a punch line, Was waiting for refreshments at the prom in '89 I'm super crafty, super nasty, super rhaspy Fuckin' bitches with super asscheeks You fucking faggots don't know the wrong speeches I beat a bitch untill her whole body turns to cleavage I'm hyperactive so I drink decaffinated My left jab is fatal, leave your cats decapitated! |
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