a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

letra de for the craft - cerebrai cortex

yo
its cerebral
we got grafh and 9.3 on the track
lemme remind yall what classic is

i got 45s
33s
yo what you need
clean that sh-t off quick
ay stick it in that machine
right now usin pete rock
rockin the cartridge green
im fly like a partridge in a tree so pardon me
but ain’t you the one claimin you got sick rhymes
directed from a sick mind
f-ck off
you wouldn’t last a 32 in mine
in fact
i got a 32 in mind
not the weapon
the verse
at all times
got my nose to the grind

so step away like you would from a broke ladder
ain’t nothin else to climb above me
except vines housin puff adders
i p-ss on you any chance i get like a weak bladder
so ill puff puff pass on you weak addicts

this is cortex b-tch
ill go toe to toe with your whole d-mn clique
you hear this track come on you better roll that sh-t
if you presentin negativity withhold that gift
im workin overtime in the studio takin all your shifts

so punch it chewie into hyperdrive
lets get out this dead end
i speak holy regiment
i am raps reverend
now eat of my body
the bread has been leavened
yo im ready for heaven like i was 777

this is what it sounds like when a classics produced
make the mic catch fire
still never blowin smoke in the booth
i was born with a sweet tooth
ate too many candy wrappers
rotted it to the root
im playin all these lyres like a lute
the way i spit is binary
to them it just dont compute
i open logic and i dope produce
they open fl and then open loops
while they coke abuse
gettin credits on beats they didn’t touch callin it co produced
meanwhile
their label f-ckin em over a table
with a lack of lube
their goal is to schalack the fools
get em greased up
they lack intelligence without a lack of jewels
these laquer fumes got their vision h-lla skewed
brought on by control from the suits

they lookin like
foot by the fruit
tried to learn to play the game
but they ain’t
got a clue
the skeletons in the ground
day by day
are exhumed
this track is
for those
that dont
play by the rules
i made this for the craft
not the fools
this is for the craft not the fools

my name grafh ho

i ain’t tryna wait a moment
as long as you fake and show it
told my lawyer take the case and close it
the whole world in a snow globe
im gon break it open
every time i shake its snowin
and big snowflakes are floatin
and big chrome eight is pokin
out of my waist and it ain’t heroic
if it blows through the back of a brain
and the face explode
then its a major homer
over the gate
with the bases loaded
when the bases loaded with bakin soda
i bake and soak it
i take control of the race
knowin the brakes are broken
i take your soul and let the angels hold it
my jackers take your gold chain and sold it
i take a gold chain coat it in cold rain
over a whole lake then froze it
life could change in a dice game
go shake and throw it
and dont pay me owe it
i go crazy
no its a movie
go hbo it
knowin satan rollin the tapes
goin to heaven
now open the gates and show it
baby

nine three

look i study my intuition
open eyes yet arrogant though
oven top smoking roaches
money schemes in front of your stove
conflicted by your ways
how you prejudice hoe
how you spend your time drifted
addicted
prescriptions you snort
fish scale have you pale
looking like a skeleton though
and you a virus yourself
the way your circle done grow
some motivated
i stay consistent
committed i show
speak from my perspective
never let emotions control
lack of education
definition of broke
ambulance sirens on the scene procedures on the hospital bed
my life in chapters
every scene common with death
i’ve been cautious of wealth
i’ve been holding my breath
coffin top close in a box that i rest hennessy bottles smoking weed at the bottom i’m left
heavy in this game
why they left me for my pain
i been on my own
crying every other day
just to hide the tears
that run steady through the drain
i need time alone
makaveli in my tape
product of that life
that semi when it sprayed
cocaine in my blood
fendi on my waist
hungry like a fat boy
with a belly you can’t tame
put the earth in my blunt
let it burn then i puff
i been counting days
in a circle i’m stuck
my mind playing tricks
like a circus or stunt
searching for myself
but the purpose ain’t much
nervous i rush
no person to trust
purchase my dreams
in my journal i brush
they setting me up
and life ain’t measuring up
i do the dash for the cash
hit the measuring cup

- cerebrai cortex

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS