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letra de bloody choppers 4 - chopra the spitter

[verse 1: chopra the spitter]
i would have never though that bl–dy choppers 4 was gonna be released into the public
now i gotta represent the underground and tell ’em that a hundred round is similar to the way that i am riding on this instrumental
because i am sicker than the most, got no fillers in my posts
chilling while i’m k!lling all the villains with the drilling
got the feeling that the syllables are willing to be skinning and then peeling all these hoes
i have never lost my chopper flow, stop to drop some dope bars so hot that most
of thе wannabe rappers are gеtting smacked like it’s a battle with the conor mcgregor
you’re economically better? i got the philosophy swagger
you’re a misogynist gangster, i’m never stoppin’ for banter
always improving, never running out of fuel
follow my movement, better get a gun or two
call out my music if you wanna stumble to your death
[verse 2: the jackal]
vociferous, so sick with the flow
the boy gets vicks with known stickiest throat
get thrown, f-ck kicks, the king sneakin’ in blows
like woah, get gossamered, get ’em bruised blue and black
widowed too, i’m a hooligan, cannot fathom whom gathered a crew
to castigate the jackal when alacratic, i move
magnanimous dude, ’til boom go doom like a back-a-wards move, ooh
tongue twisted, i’m done thinkin’ they comin’ up
sink a couple rappers, i’m at the summit of kosiosk
lookin’ down on ’em, they cloud-covered, i’m too high
who thy enemy? get daggered in moonlight (ooh)
born in solla sollew, ooh
you can’t do what i do, times two
mind go iller, conniving get sicker
eradicate a k!ller with tiger stripes, figure i’m the best
uh, the blade of my tongue a razor
get cuttin’ ’cause i’m the new don
i’m a diuretic and chaotic, the human embodiment of a bomb
we both come from a kong
you ass, you donkey, i’m a king properly
i’ma get a couple of peasants to rap for me
guillotine tongue, the choppin’ gonna get bl–dy
chopra the spitter and jack the ripper are comin’ like, yuh

[verse 3: down6]
gravedigger finna be lurkin’ and bringin’ a phenomenon
test any peasant with the bl–dy grip of katanas
brave when i’m bringin’ the pain to spray a chopper, bruh
never tell the motive in the night time and the mist
f-ck around and catch a blow, i sling ’em like a catapult
now welcome to the gates of h-ll, you’re drownin’ in my sh-t
’bout time that the slits appearing all up on your wrists and dome
when you see me lurkin’ ’round the dark side of your home
no one is comin’ to topple the cheesiness liek domino’s
not a result i’m happy with, not a murder? then start the boat
readying up the burner, a bl–dy mess on the f-ckin’ stove
taking a puff of the pipe, got ’em in sight, in my f-ckin’ scope
all cap, a tall hat, like dimmidone
fall back on all caps to win the show
false lad, you all fake from head to toe
grim hysteria in the area of your home
[verse 4: faraway]
в команде бешеных кровожадных ублюдков
хотя с проплешиной карликов по нулям тут
в головах намешано, но не грозит нюрнберг
как и повешанному не капитулянту
банда в сборе
бараны, сорри
но вам рваные вскоре нанесут раны
соли добавят туда
мы достойны, мы даже спросонья
любого бы порвали на битах
меня снова зовут на фит
даже когда я не делаю песен по полгода
я faraway не без повода
я словесными кораблями
перелавировал тут около гугола раз
около двенадцати лет я по миллиметру
вывожу свой псевдоним в списке
быстрейших поэтов планеты
чтобы, наверное, пожить
три жизни за время одной, ой!
без попутного ветра
на тыкве вместо кареты
memento mori, по колено море, нагонит крови бит
любой будет убит, коли на треке dna и фарид
[verse 5: dna tru lyricist]
tru sh-t
look at the way that i do it, look into the eye of the truest of choppers so fluid
are comin’ in the game, i slide-cancel like call of duty movements
who is the player that you can’t line up a shot against?
throw a lyrical curveball, [?]
eat the competition with no condiments
it’s mass hysteria in the area, and i might verberate, get to murderin’ all occupants
and i’ma chop ’em all up from a bird’s eye view
when i don’t be givin’ a f-ck what you heard i do
this lyricist sh-t, you can’t write like this
f-ck your sps, when i spit – you’re through
better hit the bricks, when i’m choppin’ ’em up, and stompin’ ’em all in the mode with the sickest sh-t
pixy stick little b-tches better be quick to split
at the second they discover, ‘case i rip ’em up and cut ’em up and then i f-ck his b-tch
i’m on a whole ‘nother level with the soul of the devil
’til the god comes, and then i say “devil out”
i’m up in the game with the lyrical stamina, hand the hammer and i’m gonna damage ’em
[?], no doubt
i’m a dark heart horse, lyrical martyr
spit the hardcore, slammin’ your d-ck in a car door
jumpin’ all over the beat with the wordplay parkour
stickin’ my d-ck in your b-tch, and hittin’ the spot like a dartboard
tru lyricist sh-t

[verse 6: kenos]
i was the worst of the pack-man
now i couldn’t ever feel better
be choppin’ up bars but no sweater
heat encasin’ you like it a sweater
talkin’ ’bout b-tches, you ain’t even met her
i’m a chopper so i gotta spit it quicker when i pull up to the motherf-ckin’ scene
i’ma do it proper. you a capper
all my lyrics be richer than anything you or mother has ever f-ckin’ seen
got red on my fist and i feel like i’m boxin’ em
got blood on my wrist, when i’m choppin’, i’m stoppin’ ’em
these kiddies better stop talkin’ or i’m clockin’ ’em
the time shall be now, your mouths, better start watchin’ em
homie, you do not know me, to you i am anonymous
this kid’s better know that he is not beating this
really could never slow my fire, promotheus, stupid

[verse 7: ghosty boi]
sick, weak, and hands cold, infected with the syndrome
no ropes or chians but can’t escape, we call this feeling stockholm
throat, eyes, and wrists red, in another form of desperate
she wants my love through every cut, but never intends to seek death
depression mixed with gaslit, delusional with passion
confusion if it’s abuse or just a self-created sadness
turn pale and anorexic, addiction to self-attackin’
has she lost the will to cope? or is it an overdose on acid?
i go f-ckin’ wicked
i play with your heart, then i throw it a distance
do wonder i’m so distant
’cause i need inspiration for these bars, and then i go k!ll it
how could you say that i k!lled ’em?
i wasn’t the one who attempted on pullin’ the trigger
their pain is their own they inflicted
and, b-tch, you can start missin’ me with that sh-t
’cause they just a reinvented vision of icarus

[verse 8: troll]
muitos aqui pensaram que eu tinha morrido
pensaram que eu tava fora desse jogo
mas eu tô de volta, causando a revolta
dos meus inimigo’ que paga’ de louco
então eu quero que se fôda, dá o mic que eu mato
destruo o legado desses pelassaco
demetrius voltou, e te deixa endoidado
te mato, desosso, e desovo no mato
don’t f-ck with me ’cause i am your lord
se trombar comigo vai ficar sem sorte
falei com o diabo, ele pediu sua morte
não há quem discorde que você é fraco
arranco cabeças e ponho em um saco
escondo a faca na batina, e isso é um fato
conviver com padres, sempre foi um fardo

[verse 9: schntzi]
dunkle miene wie im bergwerk
schwerter durchbohren deinen körper
wenn inch wieder mal im modus bin
seit bl–dy choppers 3 hat sich einiges verändert aber
nicht daran dass meine lyrics nicht aus einem forum sind
die vergangenen paar tage hab ich größtenteils
damit verbracht rekorde zu brechen
was du hörst ist die spitze der wortraffinesse
ich slappe dich motherf-cker tot mit einer sportadilette
branx kommt mit art und du kriegst
angstkicks du schreibst deine
addlips auf bad trips weil dus nicht anders kannst, b-tch
ey da hilft kein krankenwagen
wenn dich einer meiner punchlines trifft
ich werd mit deinem mageninhalt die wand bemalen
eine weitere schicht des wandanstrichs

[verse 10: lt9]
better get ready for the murder, if you know what i’m sayin’
blowin’ holes in your circulatory system, i ain’t playin’
claim to have a l-st for blood but sound anemic
from my lips and tongue, i spit insulin, no sugar-coating
flowin’ like blood in the arteries
embracin’ my other side that’s been a part of me
slice the body quick and dispose of it, no apologies
injectin’ lethal poison in your veins, call it harmacy
got explosive lyrics and flows like cesium
raps put me to sleep, they’re inert like helium
choppers on a level you can never get on
tryna look for more, but all the good ones argon
comin’ [incomprehensible] ground
just let me be, leave me sitting alone without a sound
and don’t bother me unless you wanna see a mind that’s hating

[verse 11: dvagoh]
callo nella posse con un insolito appetito
come fossi stato in ritiro fin dall’anno passato
bl–dy come mary, dentro allo shaker
manca un singolo ingrediente
vado alla caccia per un liquido che rimpiazzi il passato
non voglio esagerare, gli altri vi han gia impattato
chillo un attimo col flow che fa da ghiaccio impaccato
però se non lo passi prima che faccia un altro tiro vengo
a strapparti il micro e ci resta il tuo braccio attaccato
blood in, blood out, frate è questo che significa
non hai incontrato mai nessuno che mimica
il modo in cui lo faccio, ripeto fai spazio
e se facciamo sangue acido è solo questione di chimica
ma non torna il sole quindi ne hai conferma
non dalla cartina dalla luna piena
se diventa rossa tipo castlevania
la prossima mossa frate? cazzo, prega
mi sa che è troppo tardi per fare una cosa che ti salui
che pare è tanto che dalla scena tu esca tutto intero
tiro via gli arti rimasti, sei husk se vado ad impalarti
oppure fatality spine rip con la forza che prendo da su in cielo
a te sempre avverso frate no tsundere
patto di sangue in un modo o l’altro lo suggello
chiedi ti soccorrano ma non succede
infine ti tiro i nervi e faccio un violencello
uengono a cercarti ma pure con multipli disp-cci
non arriverann lontano in assenza di proue
sviluppo dei fatti, l’hai visto accadere a tanti
zero bimbe goth guando dico che è fashion d’orrore
dico che uno sbaglia strada ed ha commesso un errore
nessuno a portata e si è spento il motore
jab, jab e slash al ventre e se non muore
spera solo che jack non ne senta l’odore

- chopra the spitter

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