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letra de a dose of godzilla - dr syntax (feat. stig of the dump)

[verse 1; stig of the dump]
[laughing]
yo i’ll rock your jaw
you thug rappers are just not as raw
i’m the type to turn your body of work into a rotten corpse
i rap for mentalheads hiding weapons in their college dorm
this shit ain’t horrorcore
it’s fact, i’m the god of war
find my name scored in the walls of a asylum corridors
by patients who see my face every time they stop and snore
[?]
that foul mouthed prick drowning witches in my bloodstream
drug fiend masochist
necking wraps and acid trips
hatred’s the catalyst
for crushing mics with hammer fists
i spend my life trying to hide from psycho-n-lysts
me, my stash of tablets and a m-ssive bag of cannabis
the charismatic castaway
surfing the shadows, i maneuver through the cracks in
back p-ssages and alleyways
happily laughing
splashing acid in a rappers face
grab a blade
slash his veins
i love the way cadavers taste

[verse 2; dr. syntax]
not so much the monkey out the cage
it’s the scientist without the radiation suit
marching with an army of mutated troops
you bringing flames? well i’m moonraker, lazerproof
taking on invasions replicating ninja gaiden moves
when this brigade is loose
we may stage a coup
strangle hating crews
using laces in their training shoes
we make a pussy out of saber tooths
victims try negotiating saying
“i can double what they’re paying you!”
f-ck with the illest of recording artists
without deloreans we make sure we finish it before it’s started
some rappers sound like they were born retarded
and leave with nothing they can show for all the graft
just like an autumn harvest
i break ground just like a tank over some cobblestones
leaving bystanders facedown like when a bomb explodes
so check your horoscopes
even mystic meg & justin toper knows
that synners rocks a show
when you are not [?]

[verse 3; stig of the dump]
if you wanna live
i’m not the kid
to quarrel with
you see i’ll proper flip
and turn your nice day into a horror flick
the dead burst through their coffin lids
with words from my apocalypse
this shit’s
the living proof the opposite
of god exists
the gothic prince
i’m the devil’s lost son
freshly escaped from the flames that kept me locked up
surviving, by beating off the many souls who got stuck
the modern day enigma, breaking the code of conduct
i’m hotheaded, my temperament is fahrenheit
demon pupil stabbing at his masters eyes
with stanley knives
the only true fact of life
is in the end we have to die
so i’ll keep shanking rappers until my appetite
is satisfied

[verse 4; dr. syntax]
and you can fantasize
about the tracks you write
keeping the standard high
but you’d be mad denying
that’s a pack of lies
vanish like you’re channel live
tax’s mind is m-ssive size
underground, making the granite rise
like tobacco’s price
f-ck a label advance
i won’t aim for the charts
if you’re fake in your heart
i’m danger like aiming at your face with a dart
deflate your argument and take it apart
there’s no technology available to wage you
with the state of your art
i’m game for a laugh
but can’t be played [?]
my game face resembles jason if he ever takes off his mask

[stig of the dump]
strange and bizarre

[dr. syntax]
and this is us before we’ve even started yet
‘tax and stiggie smalls
there ain’t no duo coming half as fresh

*scratching*
fresh
running this shit

- dr syntax feat stig of the dump

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