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 undaground choppers 5 - dj lil sprite

[verse 1: splytsecond]
you better put ya fist down cuz i’m toe tagging this beat
you whining more than an fiend smoking prozak in the street, you talking big because of your dough stacking receipt
and i’d suggest you gettin fit but your flow madly obese
and your slow rapping is weak
like your throat after i squeeze
now your flow gladly deceased
so you choke after defeat
and you hope that we can beef
good as we both happen to be
i say it slow actually so i don’t have to repeat
that lyrical ak-ma flow is h-lla fluid. even with a smooth flow really nothing is rougher, so when i come with the upper it’ll be like i plastered the face of daffy and donald on a magazine you’ll be duckin for cover
the evil one feed you nuns i just wanna see you run people come, with it you will need new guns lethal son give to ya
(3, 2, 1)
coming up to my level of sk!ll is equivalent to ten meter drop, i usually abuse the beat at high speeds until its begging to stop
proving a lyrical pattern you see in the beginning like adam and eve no matter the deed we’ll batter the beat together we’re gonna combat it with speed
n-body believin’ i got em all dreary by breaking the laws of the particle theory it’s definitely better than liftin’ a gat well i’m giving the people the gift of the gab, i double the syllable count as a part of the generation of infinite rap splytsecond i dare you to find a rapper sicker than that

[verse 2: k-fix]
i hope you’re ready, for the phenomenon that i’m bringing/
i leave you by the sea the floater begin to sink in
i’m making it with the devil, chopping it with my inner demon
the reason i’m murking the game, ain’t no way i’ma be defeated
chopping it up you won’t believe it, i’m hard to beat on the beat
because all of this other shit is easy, believe it and there’s no reason
that i’m above trying to be humble, this season to be conceited
giving a f-ck with n-gg-s beefing, the heater leave ‘em deleted
with the speed and delivery, lyrically on my mind
on my level, you’ll never be because the jealous is in ya vibe
rocking the mic and i’m betting i’m ahead of ’em
been a beast in the game, with the n-gg- sprite on the beat, i’ma hit the street with the flame
when you speaking my name, there’s greatness coming with it
and we keepin it memphis, shuttin it down n-body f-ckin with it
thinking they better than mine you gotta be kidding funny they f-cking stealing
spitting venom with the clique, and give ’em the biz, and ripping the competition
hanging with the best when this shit is pessimist when i spit it compress you, professional, n-body chopping it better
when i microphone check i be rushing to get up on em
and that’s when imma slash to getting up on my level
finna come better than ever this shit leave em all petrified
i’m leaving n-gg-s struck with the lightning leave em electrified
coming to rip it and wreck it i reckon i spit the fire
when i feast on them lyrically it’s a feat that you’ll recognize

[verse 3: kaoz]
i’m fiddin open up a can of whoop -ss
leave your jaw hanging off of your face krooked
spit a couple lines of dynamite you wanna die tonight man you ain’t nothing but a rookie
choppin the words you can hear me starting the chainsaw
couple of verses to make sure the punks stay soft
sneaking into nasa tryin to siphon rocket fuel out of the shuttle cuz i’m ready to take off
lookin’ at earth and i’m thinking i’m never gonna go home
sick of living inside this world that’s so cold
people lookin’ me like i’m the f-ckin weird one
takin’ another blunt to the head mane i’m so blowed
tryin’ to cope with the man in the mirror
walking up out of the smoke and i’m looking life and makin’ the choices thinking of raising my feet off the earth and finally make it up out this m-th-f-ckin nightmare
i’m going all in is that a problem i’d rather walk it then sit around and talk about it
f-ckin up anybody that’s talkin that shit like i’m a ninja
seeing if anybody really wanna step up but i doubt it
boom goes the napalm, shrapnel bouncing off of the ceiling until it finds its target
hittin’ everybody in the head that’s thinkin’ that they’re the hardest
i will be the finisher of anything you started

[hook: splytsecond]
(this is the underground)
give me the mic and then imma chop
(this is the underground)
light up a syllable cannon and let it pop
(this is the underground)
and n-body in the world is gonna run that high you know
(this is the underground)

[verse 4: hurricane]
i wouldn’t say that i’m a king, but ima be the best thing ever seen, if you ever want to talk about chopping, i could’ve won a ring, for kansas city’s intricate ventriloquist, a lot of n-gg-s want to try to copy, coming up after me, trying to use my patterns and metaphorical segues i put them n-gg-s in band-aids, cause ain’t n-body in the hemisphere that i can’t take. been gone a little minute now i’m back like an earthquake! ready to break them off, i wanting to give them the lyrical headlock, n-gg- been harder than bed rock, verbally something they can’t stop. coming up out of the town of the k!llers were all of my n-gg-s are top notch, been a f-cking monster with the chopping i’m a sasquatch, flow is critical y’all don’t want to contest it, if they ever do then i k!ll them and hit the exit, kind of like a zombie i’m eating brains for breakfast, hurricane be doing it if you didn’t get the message. i get in and fit in and make ends, forget about it. i do shows, with my bro’s, in clubhouses, that are crowded. freestyle, or write down, my contents, a power outage. go hard, on guitars, with sick bars, don’t ever doubt it. you don’t want to be the n-gg- that i k!ll, people think i’m playing i’m doing this shit for real, ak-47 is tatted that’s how i live, never hesitate to come put it up in your grill

[verse 5: interchopper]
callin’ me a chopper but don’t know why beast?
maybe cuz when choppin i’m blazin the beat
some of’em thinkin’ i’m weird, whatever they mean
why the f-ck they be hatin’ me?
choppin’ through steel i’ll be bendin’ the beat when i run and then turn into brain sick hit’em with the same kit (imma) get’em and be beatin’em in the middle of my verse (shit!)
(brain split) (round 5)
k!llin while chillin (uh) is m-th-f-kin worth
whateveer i’m touching i’m murdering during the uc5. don’t you think i’m venomous? turn down you’re lame as f-ck!!
coming around with a caution ya finna get out of my rushin
i’m sick of these n-gg-s’ being suckin while they trynna rap fast like an
undaground chopper
don’t compare with speed
deny covering it
i’m nailing it with inter- speed
just cam up with delivering unbelievable complexity
choppin’ is like velocity, fater it gets harder it hits
speedin’ up with a nitrogen just like i have turbo to hit
the name interchopper says you gotts expect some more heat
whenever i’m havin’ the best-time- shit when i drop some versesite for fams
i’m murdering all of the bars when imma blast catching up it’s an inter-speed burst
ain’t n-body ripps it out just like me
others are lyrical murderers, imma speed demon
d-mn it i’ll be tha spitter with wicker style comin’ to k!ll’em all comin’ to get in roll whenever the choppin is gettin down i’m wreckin the freakin’ mic. with droppin the most bars
(per second)
i said i’m a speed demon what means i have no limits
hackin and f-ckin all the b-tches who talk i’m not choppin with lyrics and i have no sk!lls look
imma undaground chopper

[verse 6: mister hyde]
runnin hardline, thinkin of part 5, doin it raw in the game and i’m bringin the bars fire for the archives, dippin them b-tches in gasoline before i set em ablaze in such a way that they cannot take it, i will never let this art die, far cry, what they want is the talent, it’s like they fiendin for the lyricism, wordplay in balance, u gotta have or it really isnt magic that’s happenin, gotta give em the brother of scott sommers, meaning havok. takin it back to how it was in the beginning, how it was when the lyrics were most important, nowadays n-body appreciatin the craft how it’s meant to be appreciated hip hop is segregated, it shouldn’t be, now tell me how 100 is that?, doin the math, when i’m rippin u mothaf-ckaz in half as if i’m shang tsung, turnin myself into jax, come to allison hill and get jacked, ready or not, doin the job, throwin the knife, up in ya back, ain’t n-body f-ckin wit me, mister hyde of bmd is untouchable in this music scene, my technicality is so unmatched u should just call me your majesty, i’m a true emcee indeed, i’m the millennium falcon with speed, i bleed for this shit, u better believe it, i sent my demons to jesus, he sent em back to me grievin and weepin, he told me read em and weep and dont be deceived by the hand u were dealt, it only means ur weakness has been conceived by the evil

[verse 7: mizury mize]
the [devil] and im able to catch fire like a “fire-fighter” bein a fire starter when im preachin to the choir; a soldier wit a [flame thrower]
showin devotion as the rappin chucky wit a temper k!llin em over bein the mad whitey; son of sam of the rap game; im mister [lawn mower-er-er-er-er]
wit a mouth motored by the south k!llin syllables without count-in em out cuz the syllables per second im addressin is on yall
i just beat a beats heart beat till it don beat and then i eat it like i mean it like a feinin zombie high as f-ck on some bathsalts
im b-lls to the wall; i’ma problem cuz im awesome when im droppin these bombs on em without a cause; so f-ck yall, i dont give a d-mn
the villian in me bein a felony on a k!llin spree in any facinity wit a crowd and a mic stand just shows i go turkey-ham
psycho like im michael at thanksgivin gettin savage attackin a track choppin it up like a ninja
out to get cha attention and make you listen to my visions makin you picture em wit the wisdom of this ballastic
rhythm ive written k!llin the competition wit the ammunition when spittin
choppin em up and bustin em down like a demolition derby like im on a mission; special edition, mint condition cuz their hasnt been a thirsty n-gg- ta merk me wit lyrics
from the clearance isle gimmickin tryin to mimic this image yall better off packin a picnic wit a mortician b-tches
im chopper doin it properly; monster inc. wit the fitest gettin timid any min makin it vivid;scarin you is the business
and i’m addicted to workin; committed to over-workin and rippin a verse on purpose; i admit it mizury’s vicious

[verse 8: sensei] (english translation)
rapido acrobatico tipo il kung fu nel mio vaporizzatore fumo le erbe blu
dico parole a propulsione con il mio beat in loop in fast rap impossibile provare a fare di più
finalmente è arrivato il momento di dimostrare e tirare fuori completamente tutta quanta la mia velocità ahhhhhh
l’obiettivo perseguito con il mio talento è di fare musica veramente difficile con infinita semplicità
tutte le volte vado più forte mi diverto come nelle giostre non me ne fotte se non capisci la potenza dell’extrabeat
propongo delle proposte propositive che vi possono fare uscire davvero da tutta questa shit
sclero voglio superare il cielo come un alieno gli scarsi nemmeno li vedo ai miracoli so che ci credo
sono sereno pure se crolla il mondo intero mica come svevo dopo che scrisse tutta quanta la coscienza di zeno
l’unico rapper italiano che possa reggere il livello senza fare brutte figure dicono sia sensei
io non mi vanto affatto sono solamente un fottuto pazzo con il cervello shakerato proprio un milkshake
so che ad ogni costo miglioro sono un mostro con indosso un kimono
se pensano di sfidarmi sono cazzi loro faccio tornare questa musica negli anni d’oro

[verse 9: dna]
(dna!) when i step into the booth i promise you
i’ma be spittin’ lyricism that’s so phenomenal
so vamanous into my domino effect and i’ma go astonish your common flow with a combo blow ‘til none of y’all are left!

i’m the chopper, with everlasting gobstopper proper choppin’ helicopter propeller blades to mop ya, mobsters up quicker than the mon-stars, when they lost their power in space jam and turned back into little hobbits…

you’re garbage, you’re nothing compared to me when i bomb this with a lyrical stealth drone, jamie foxx musta lost his marbles think that he gonna make it out this time around, ‘cause i’m the real law abiding citizen ’bout to lay it down with marvellous captivated activated dominance, summon the rap game up in the palm of this, closed fist, just like i did on ‘my psychosis’, and no this isn’t what you expected but i know this…

so this kid that’s testing me better go get his sew kit, for opening his hoe lips, saying that joe spits better than me and i’m talking to michael maffie of maffie however you say, you crazy, maybe you should show me respect!

for i go ape-shit and rip ya shit open, quick-scope him, leaving ya lid open, ribs broken kid pokin’ around, in the wrong vid hoping to hear some dope spits, know that he never gonna be shit slopin’ sick, as he sits back in a puddle of his own shit and quits, it’s ya only option, study me and get caught watching, hopscotching over hot lava rocks ‘til ya not walking, stop popping off at the mouth with the soft comments! (b-tch!)

‘cause i promise i’ma abominate all garments of your flow style, welcome to the hood uzi ho down, time to show out, never slow down, profound lyrics coming at you at super-sonic speed…

(i’m) murdering off the dali lama put him in a mother-f-ckin’ casket (latch it!). really wanna get to f-ckin’ with the way i spit it on the mic somebody thinking they bringing it better than mine so i’m topping ‘em all and poppin’ ‘em all with the lyrical stamina, hand me the mother-f-cking meat-cleaver, i’m a light-speed choppin’ meat-eater!

- dj lil sprite

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS