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letra de wm - rival

[verse 1: grim sickers]
sickers, i’ll start moving like hitler
concentration camps, that evil wickedness
that way off the richter, all-black winter, motion picture
shots like adriano at inter
ricochet just missed by a whisker
get lost in the crowds like simba
sickers, mi na ramp, mi na linger
gears of war, rd, i’m still firing
all-black lighting then
swing, swing, swing, till my muscle start tiring
slip and sliding, ducking and diving
strings get pulled like violin
civil or violent, jammz, micty him
souls starts flying, careers start dying
strike with the iron, swing like tiger
sk!lliam and elijah
ten racks upfront for the cypher
curry goat, lamb patty for a fiver
ghetts, kane, marcus and hyper
“garage sk-nk” and “naila”
wiley was getting ’em hyper
i was in the crowd, though, watching with a cider
ayy, ayy, ayy, sickers

[verse 2: rival]
they want madness, well, i’m active
rivz, a big man dis
had stripes before stan smiths
all real round my field, this ain’t catfish
shift man off of this atlas
lift man out of his fabrics
flip man up like gymnastics
make head crack like egg when it hatches
dem boy dere need practice
ain’t no clank, i swear it’s just ratchets
this one here is tearing through jackets
ain’t no care, not here, when it’s madness
then i’ll ric flair on your bad b-tch
woo, i left the ting damaged
macho man, you know my ting’s savage
and who said you’re sick? no way, you’re just average
but this ain’t average, blud, what do you mean?
i lift man off the scene
take off a headtop, let blood spread like meme
k!ll off your bloodclart team
round me, man can’t glisten and gleam
power ranger, man know i’m green
blud, what do you mean?
i take off your headtop clean

[verse 3: grim sickers]
sickers, i walked in the game like razor ramon
sent to the sky like i’m raising the drone
have it out like chip and malone
you’re ten up and i came on my own
dressing gown looking like a black belt in karate
daniel-son and miyagi
swing man with a car key
pray his doctors don’t lose that heartbeat
stomin, nasty jack and sharky
old school inzaghi
bollywood gal that don’t wear sari
hid it in my sock like playboi carti
swing like vladimir or vitale
turn the ting game of thrones finale
i run track like vettel’s ferrari
who? you and what army? sickers
king in the ring like jerry “the king” lawler
turn the ting terminator-scorcher
bells start ringing like it’s the last order
all blacked-out in a packed-out corsa
four weddings and a funeral
covered in roman numerals
calling out grim, i ain’t blaming ya
winner ladder match, wrestlemania

[verse 4: rival]
dem man are lost in the ting like nemo
i just cancel their ting like nino
let soul fly in the air like free throw
dem man start up a ting, i finito
man think they’re cold till they meet sub zero
say he was a hundred, left him zero
i just slap ’em up once
show man ’bout manors and stuff
bad ’em up, bad ’em up, bad ’em up once
i’m hungry, and these man are all lunch
try take man for a dunce
i’ll just roll up a man like skunk
have man leave the ring like cm punk
i can’t see these c-nts
bunch of neeky mugs
man are not easy, blud
nah, man are not an easy test
can’t defeat or pree these steps
i can see his death all over the speakers and decks
should’ve sweve with the left
plus, i’m taking t-tles easily, yes
i’m brock lesnar, i might beat up a ref
i still won the match, man see i’m the best

- rival

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