The game is filled with em wanna bz, claiming hip hop changes with time dont think so yo just get yo motivation from a wack rapper, lets face it, yo dawgs no longer spit, yo just recite some bullshit, makin ma fingers itch, pow! pow! pow! yo got shot, rest in peace son Real Emcees are still around but they dwell in the underground, yo cant find em if yo dont know were to look @, yo follow the horror sound, peeple a spitin ill Shit nower days not horse dung Yo cold a got yo hot with ma ryhme, infecting yo brains like cancer, burnin yo soul like hell fire, living yo fake ass with chronic headache, damaged yo heart and yo wind pipe now yo snufle, after some seconds yo lungs chock,a slit yo throat watch yo drown into yo own blood, as a live yo for dead a chuckle Dont play dumb son, this cat is out to hunt, so sensitive like a clito, watch what yo say ma anger is lethal, ruthless demons lives under ma skin thou, im in fresh like yo fathers seed grown,like a pheroh warrior in ma hands a carry a panga en a sickle raaaghhhh!!!!
Posted on: Mon, 04 Nov 2013 13:09:07 +0000
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