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letra de masterpiece - max clique

[verse 1: langston th0r-au]
speak this thesis, written on pieces
this is that geek sh-t, water to the knee sh-t
totem pole g sh-t, make you say, “hot d-mn”
can’t believe i see sh-t, i’ma be sh-t
panning my pleats and began in my speeches
martin to the malcolm the outcome is g*nius
in your death, we’re eating, breathing, mcing
comin’ with some future sh-t, n0body’s seeing
training on a microphone, someone getting sh-t
pen and pad, paper beat, i’m so primitive
ten year visit, ten came home ripping and
feeling this cynicism, my penmanship’s exquisite
listen, i am gifted and lifted from swinging
racks on the table, written in the kitchen
spittin’ and riffin’, my dreams is in richmond
nothing was given it was all in my vision

[verse 2: henry mccoy]
tunes like a monsoon, strong like a typhoon
my crew crash through your room, i’m on the move with sailor moon
get the sniper ready, trying to get the world soon
forming like a bomb on you jerks, swagger boys boom
aim with precision, i’m precise with my vision
listen, paint the campus colors vivid
teach about my life’s mission
i’ve been on a conquest ever since i touched a pen
blood, sweat, and tears in my rap, its for grown men
record deals for ten mill-, play this on the radio
take that rapper off his pedestal then i cut his throat
tell him swing different, dealing with the okey dokes
to doing what i wanna though, tell ’em what they oughta know

[bridge: henry mccoy]
so run to your boys now
you can let your homies walk
grab your guns, clap your hands
then scream real talk
bet you feeling tough, huh?
prolly feel like popping off
just wanna look scary
might as well be like heaven’s heart

[verse 3: great scott!]
max clique be invincible, don’t forget the name
or the motherf-cking principles, came like the rain
exposed an individual, new hippies come from old
criminals, its pitiful but i’ma stay real
still building in my citadel
spit like a king, scream f-ck, these n-ggas need
used to rock tim’s, now they stuck in skinny jeans
got a new skateboard, trade imaginary dreams
n-ggas even took the pain, heard imaginary screams
the swag is the drum, the loud is the dome
talk quiet on the job, all caps cross the phone
sharp tooth truth, all beef what i eat
getting freedom, take the kingdom, getting pieces for a week
see my words kinda heavy, and the pain kinda deep
and them bars’ kinda nasty, so excuse, i repeat
getting freedom, take the kingdom, getting pieces for a week
smell like rosé, my car and a tire
know i’m from the dirt, shots screaming through the fire
came to say these n-ggas ain’t real, they all liars
now my 16’s over, i’m done, call me retired

sportsman

- max clique

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