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Ayo, my flow rate status, be flippin' like an acrobatic on a gymnastic apparatus
I'm the baddest, lyricist, takin' you out, with mega hits
With the ammo of an F-14, what up, Fits
Chillen kickin' mean for the fiends in the cockpit
Palm gripped on the greens, givin' you a hot tip
Q tip for your ears, make them clean for the hop hip
Double wit comin' from the same genes, same dick
Scratch you off our top ten shit list, you ain't shit
No worries on this ship, you ain't gonna sink shit
With those loose lips, that are useless, to this click
Fuckin' up your unit, ruthless, how's your view, kid
Flipped out on acid from my perspective
But still calm and collective in my subjective
To get rid of my objective
How'd you do it, man
Took murder 101 as my elective
In it to the fam and friends
Settin' new trends from the year 2000 until the end
MCs don't comprehend how we blend verbs and nouns
Into beats that defies the laws of gravity
A new source of energy for the Y2G times infinity
Hardcore, give em what they screamin' for
If they want more, hit em till their ears get sore
If they want war, grab your gear time to settle the score
Let them hit the floor, cut they throats let the blood pour
Hardcore, give em what they screamin' for
If they want more, hit em till their ears get sore
If they want war, grab your gear time to settle the score
Let them hit the floor, cut they throats let the blood pour
Ay'o check it Nostradamus couldn't predict the bomb lyrics we spit
even caught his ass on a slip this is a gift comin' out the mist
Fill your heart up to the depth of fits
and Boodah slaying MC's to bits
With a new twist turns and rips and burns, crisp, firm wrist
Tight fists equal fat lip
Catch my drift, you gotta learn if you wanna pass the fifth
Second, when we're wreckin', we're tag team like Tekken
MC's get rocked to their tragedy when we're in there section
Make history, claim victory of those who claim to be
We break it down like calculus three
Whether mathematics or chemistry, we're addicts to the industry
To be or not to be, fuck the question, here's the answer
We kill like infectious cancer, drop more jaws than an exotic dancer
Filled with anger, I'm like the boss's strangler
Piss me off, I get lose, cut your ass in two
Believe what I say, slay to the ways of the drum
Act dumb get chopped up like chum
Hardcore, give em what they screamin' for
If they want more, hit em till their ears get sore
If they want war, grab your gear time to settle the score
Let them hit the floor, cut they throats let the blood pour
Hardcore, give em what they screamin' for
If they want more, hit em till their ears get sore
If they want war, grab your gear time to settle the score
Let them hit the floor, cut they throats let the blood pour
Two individuals, indivisible over
One nation kicking syllables, in confrontation to make you miserable
Undetectable, when we bounce you with the dribbles
And if you get defiant, cross over like Kobe Bryant
So be compliant, before these giants stomp you out
And claim the bout, bloody shame your mouth
Will we ever cut your snout
Exclaim and shout, when the flesh stains your grout
No doubt, this is a breakout
For you to stake out, and take out all those who fake grounds
The ones who say there ain't no joke, when they get mad clowned
Try to say they're so damn dope, when they got no pounds
Hardcore sound, composed with the underground
The shit that make you spark a spliff and just lounge
So relax, while my vocabulary mixes with tracks
I'll show them make a symphony, to make your head snap
Quick flash, when F-14 grabs a wax
And cold cut scratches, implemented to the max
Feel the wrath, when we both walk through your bath
Nowhere to run, no air to gasp
Oxygen is running low, up inside your burrow
While no minds can hold the other stuff, we give the swallow
Hardcore, give em what they screamin' for
If they want more, hit em till their ears get sore
If they want war, grab your gear time to settle the score
Let them hit the floor, cut they throats let the blood pour
Hardcore, give em what they screamin' for
If they want more, hit em till their ears get sore
If they want war, grab your gear time to settle the score
Let them hit the floor, cut they throats let the blood pour
Hardcore, give em what they screamin' for
If they want more, hit em till their ears get sore
If they want war, grab your gear time to settle the score
Let them hit the floor, cut they throats let the blood pour
Hardcore, give em what they screamin' for
If they want more, hit em till their ears get sore
If they want war, grab your gear time to settle the score
Let them hit the floor, cut they throats let the blood pour
Nelson Rodriguez, Pete Rodriguez
O/B/O DistroKid