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 daydream of a killing - clandestien

[verse 1: sesta]
you caught me in a daydream of a k!llin’
in the brain [?] i render and pause, look, sittin’ [?]
and anyone who really want it need to get their head checked
they a little touched, they a little wet
behind their years, bro, they really need it
stick ’em so quick that they ain’t feel it, you run and they hit the ground bleeding
sh-t, i wouldn’t even pity a fool
wouldn’t even [?] till the dead is [?]
man, they want a little brain and it’s hard to find
like [?] in my carpet in the dark at night
well man, they hearin’ nothin’, i told you clan in comin’
thеy takin’ over c-cksucker, hope you plannin’ nothin’, yеah
you ain’t f-ck with tomo, my man
or mortar martyr with a banana clip bomb in his hand
now, they look to the sky, they got their eyes pourin’
k!llin’ of them is in a matter of minutes, you die for it

[verse 2: mortar]
this is a death threat, extra cassette
pressed on a record, ready to smash on your head, i’m breakin’
pop the lock and load in your face
crush hopes [?] soul on satan
shout outs to the saviour, it’s mortar
oars, the clan fam, better plan for disorder
stockpile weaponry and drinkin’ water
[?] against the slaughter
[?] perimeter, finish ya
squash [?] when you’re at your peak, i’m the [?]
i’m the minister of [?] biligerent [?]
k!lling you petty and insignificant geeks
the feature with the beaker of rap
it splash like acid off the speaker
ready to meet your maker, i take you to the belly of the beast
with my wretched speech, leech off the paper
[verse 3: hons]
i don’t talk sh-t on wax, man, i only spit the truth
and if i didn’t, what the f-ck’s the point in hittin’ the booth?
clan and oars, just a little bit raw
flashy cuttin’ up the wax like a [?]
till his hands sore, i’ma stand for everything i believe in
punchlines swingin’ like the bowl i dropped my keys in
the reason we so c-cky, ’cause everybody got sloppy
sixteens for how this should be done properly
we on the frontline, dodgin’ mortar sh-lls
[?] stained tee in the club tryna [?] a girl
but i got no hope, it’s worthless
funny like an athiest livin’ in the city of churches
i’m a bad–rs- with a heart of gold
your crew’s style still cracks me up like trials when he passed the bowl
i’ma let this roll, ride till i cr-p out my b-lls
[?] i ain’t never gonna back down

[verse 4: graphic]
no foreplay, straight to the f-cking point
flip hits, light joints and do it all day
have a guess, who’s rappin’ the best?
[?] up in here [?]
a few udls, p-ssed in the mix
got a gift and [?] soothing smell
f-cking h-ll, i hope they do
it won’t make do when we’re stuck in a cell
caging your conscience, rage in a page
stage to stage, we’re just slaves to the nonsense
incompetent, stompin’ your speak punk
we hit the streets like burmese monks
punch above your weight [?]
left you bargaining while you take paycuts
stop spitting [?] is not kidding
i make [?] you sit in that lame darkness
[verse 5: trials]
’cause little judy’s crews know we gon’ [?]
till they home, gettin’ that call like john newman
you’re dead! finito, express [?] peepshow
[?]
if funkoars is wack [?]
we pushed [?] back when bne pushed dogs in prams
east coast, south side to the west run rivers
me, women in a second, they be one-two spittin’
[?] i push [?] lager or cush
blacker than the oil spill, still starve in a bush
[?] in love with the finer things
not expensive but if the man [?] a bit
a tiny bit of hydro just like this
no conviction, a small find, suck my d-ck
now if the [?] sink [?] tins
twenty-four in a pack [?]

[verse 6: tomahawk]
nothing’s more true
nothing brings me to life like the ghost of you
you, you are never comin’ home
you never, ever heard a better f-ckin’ poem
that k!lls every f-ckin’ clone feature
with details more gorier, like either
silence that blade, speak, shieth ya
there’s no one more desperate than me, pure ether
mister heat seeker, tomahawk
full throttle torque, side winder, street cleaner
evil dream weaver, beat eater
never pray but rip grim reaper
on the spit speaker, synth leader
[?] evil [?] no clearer
here, here, those of you hearin’ me
[?] synergy
[verse 7: vents]
from the tree to land, the panes of glass and grains of sand
learn to walk and transform from ape to man
trained to hand [?] lesser to k!ll
learn to dominate nature, develop the sk!ll
the predator take life to feed
developin’ methods to digest and metabolise flesh
while the [?] produce itself
man produce everything you see, you can manifest wealth
no time to waste, tribe become states
religion pave the paths so minds become slave
the divide gets great like heaven and h-ll
[?] the line between earth and myself
the rich and the poor, the loved and unloved
the black and the white [?]
so pump up the jam, chump, clan is back
vents is here, hard to disappear from the map, what?

- clandestien

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS