Informazioni sulla canzone In questa pagina puoi trovare il testo della canzone Cordless Mics at 20 Paces, artista - SkitzData di rilascio: 27.02.2020
Limiti di età: 18+
Linguaggio delle canzoni: inglese
Cordless Mics at 20 Paces |
| I spat many raps on many tracks that most rappers’d be smoking 'em |
| When I launch rhymes on mics I start smokin' em like opium |
| Your thoughts I be provoking them, brain cells I will open 'em |
| Leaving other rappers paranoid like my metaphors got coke in 'em |
| I spit vapour gasses at rappers my skills be chokin 'em |
| Phi Life free reign on MCs don’t stop until we’re smoking 'em |
| Insulting 'em, supernatural verses we be quoting 'em |
| My mind shines when I rhyme like my brain cells have got gold in 'em |
| Amazing rhyme writers, fist fighters and battle snipers |
| Prepared to die for the cause like some Shi’ite Muslim fighters |
| Tighter than Rikers, deadly venom stronger than any viper’s |
| Phi Life are the type to take your life like schizophrenic lifers |
| Crazy like crack viper Hell’s Angel bikers |
| Even if your style be hyper you’ll be crushed by the Cypher |
| Fuck the sabre-tooth, I’m the type to pulverise a tiger |
| Demoralise ya worse than a parole knock-back to a lifer |
| Cordless mics at 20 paces you’ll get wasted like a racist |
| Surrounded by 20 vexed niggas with Black Panther braces |
| Causing more pain than a sadist, rhymers are scared to play this |
| My flow’s killer high-speed like Lady Di’s Mercedes |
| You’ll die a death that’s painful, tortuous and agonising |
| When this hypnotising vocal verbalist starts verbalising |
| My skills are enterprising, my status rapidly rising |
| Rap careers I’m neutralising, life I’m striking like I’m lightning |
| Don’t need a movie screen to see events over the horizon |
| In the future I’ll be running tings on the mic, it’s not surprising |
| I’m metamorphasizing, disguised when I’m cannabalising |
| Demoralising their spies and I’m leaving em caramelising |
| Like blowtorches, my spit skills are scorching your whole fortress |
| You fightin us is like Skodas having races with Porsches |
| I spit raps just as sick as Riddick in Pitch Black |
| Faster than a Ferrari could force its driver to sit back |
| I’m dissecting your tongue to disable your thought to spit back |
| Smacking you to your senses for telling me that my shit’s wack |
| Flip tracks like train drivers at Paddington station |
| But I’m worse than a train crash cos I cause more devastation |
| Be prepared for my denotation, power surging electrics |
| When I rhyme I make ya blind you can’t find emergency exits |
| Cos that’s the way that I flex it I’m born the buffalo soldier |
| With a heart colder than peaks in the farthest part of the polar |
| My flow’s darker than cola and it’s overheating solariums |
| This black Rastafarian’s deeper than oceanariums |
| I’m for real you better believe that I don’t play tricks |
| I’m the one who taught Keanu Reeves those supernatural speed kicks in Matrix |
| Tiger style to Eagle’s Claw, many styles I brandish |
| My Drunken Master technique will crush the Preying Mantis |
| My underwater technique I practice beneath the Atlantic |
| Freeze my lungs I hold my breath longer than the man from Atlantis |
| Greeks and Gracie grapple rapper snap necks with a suplex |
| Amaze Mr Miyagi with my kung fu complex nu flex |
| Allow fox outbox with a style |
| Travel on the cloud faster than Monkey and Tripitaka, believe |
| No one can drop me, stop me or even clutch me |
| I’m a bigger threat to your life than a Muslim to Salman Rushdie |
| My soundclash technique’s in motion and won’t be stoppin |
| My burial lyrics feed the last nails in rappers' coffins |
| Stun gun shockin and dropping rappers who think they rockin' |
| Really they nothing this bad MC they can’t be dropping |
| Is ragamuffin, keep the rappers ducking like a bank assistant |
| Faced by a gun-cocking raider in a stocking |
| Now the competition’s scared stiff like bodypoppers locking |
| Put on the mic step to my D’s and start mopping |
| I’m the type to win a Grand Prix without the pit stopping |
| Phi Life Cypher represent and daddy Skitz just keeps rocking |
| And we never stopping, dropping devastating linguistics |
| When I spit these paragraphs I turn crews into statistics |
| My sadistic war thoughts are the sort to leave rappers distraught |
| I distort space and time with the swift rhymes of a tort |
| The schizophrenic epidemic’s worse than leukemia |
| Phi Life’s affecting plasma C cells like septacemia |
| We’re double teaming ya like a world rap federation |
| My armour piercing literature causes deep penetration |
| World war desolation like foretold revelations |
| Excess and out and out devastation |
| I shine like lamination just taking examination |
| My presentation be brighter than stars in the constellation |
| This illustration’s like a mad graphical picture |
| Illustrating the facts of my bad lyrical scriptures |
| I’m overheating, spitting lyrics with the intensity |
| To melt the fibres inside of your face and change your identity |
| I’m an entity with the skin of the thicking density |
| Who stands here with a size of extraordinary immensity |
| My one liners attack with the force of striking miners |
| I turn professional rhymers to buskers and street mimers |
| This Einstein I’m advancing genetic cloning |
| I possess the chromosones of a geno-soldier Ronin |
| My cypher’s rolling, disappearing like sharp things |
| It’s me and my sparks my crew got you fretting just like your car strings |