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letra de godly [freestyle] - mastamiind

[verse]
i wasn’t this crazy, till pushed to treachery
treacherous terrain, trace on terrace as spit with this terse
a curse to curse on any beat i heard
now who is gonna tell me that i can’t spit these verses
you worthless dull witted person
vacuous with the vaccine that vanquish wit you heard it
spurted these very words as i type ideas like a wordsmith
what’s ya purpose mine is to speak my mind on purpose
without being judged on this sh-t even though i am perfect, worthy, drink up the river you n-gg-s thirsty
plan to come back when i get plaques, and goofy rappers
get what they earning, the game concerns me
i’m trying to conserve it, in time, rosetta stone aligns
and i can figure what these rappers saying without crossed eyes
blasting off in the lamborghini when the roof is off
trying to spit game to the game but instead
i’m b-mping beastie boys mask off i’m jason
i’m coming through with a electric saw
face plastered no blood at all, while you dead in the asphalt
i’m like bruce banner, you better never go and p-ss me off
the game gets my nerves a lot
but i’m still getting my point across
crossed a path with a blaster shooting at me that b-st-rd
i’m drastic i’m having spasms there back and there vapid
the caped crusader optimistic on the valid statement
that i’ll get to later you is never gonna get back
you hate as soon as i spit a bar
when you know that you in the barrel at the bottom
of it i can’t wait to leave you there to perish
the return of the great, return of the illest of men, like a helicopter, crashing the most special event
i know the game like the back of my hand
you know it like a hard p-ssword
i feel like this beat should go a little more faster
push on the gas in a benz i’m dash
i came for the bacon, i k!lled mrs. pig
sentimental when i came in to end
i k!ll anything with a simple attempt
this ain’t a game but i’m usually called the god of war
if you want to tackle with the god
you bettered brought master sword
you n-gg-s trippin i’m always crazy
i’m odd see, brain dead weight, came to fix ya but i act dumbly, can take ya verse out the beat and go stomping on it so jolly
i can k!ll any beat and that’s why i’m referred as, godly

- mastamiind

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