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letra de taken um' back 2 school - will tell

[verse 1: mr. metaphor]
violent habits. i scan the globe with the eyes of a savage
follow the light of my p-ssage, stained gl-sses
restrained actions. i hold my hands back to strike and clash with the titans
ain’t taking shit—it’s my -ss that you’re wiping
dirty-minded and got support for every word behind it
observe my rhyme. it could start to climb and then clog your sinus
verbal pirates. the murderous thoughts rest inside us
hell survivors. coming to life but we dwell as the livest
gather ‘round us. if any force generate within, it’s counterbalanced
punch you like throwing spine down the mountains
through the valley, over the hill. son, my rhymes is countless
brooklyn’s livest raiding your houses, stealing your spouses
forty spaces between my words are where your face is
and if you stand in any one, son, i’ma leave your mouth tasteless
take your wifey’s fragrance, pawn it for a pound of dro, getting wasted
puffing lye in the basement with a twenty-four case in it
and rhyme like we tasting this—spread the sauce and paste in it
draw the card with the face in it, play my hand and leave the ace in it
you took my soul at birth and now the world gonna pay for it
stay safe, kid. life ain’t what you make—it’s how you take it

[verse 2: pumpkinhead]
that’s my word. my army calmly wet up your dirty laundry
we stalking these streets like zombies, puffing palm trees
my godly flow shine more than armani clothes in here
like body blows from ridd-ck bowe. you didn’t know?
twisting dro, make the average joe pigeon-toed
i’m living though, protected by a wicked glow
reinforced by the sickest bros who would jig you slow
while you pissing mo’. if all else fails, we let the pistol go
lift your soul. four-cylinder rap team
powered by [ghastly?], dr. king’s last dream
brooklyn ac’ clap fiends for cash green, rock a mask unseen
hooded out, skully and gloves, looting your house
slam a tutu to the roof of your mouth
leave you with nothing left. i get nothing less than the best
thoughts i manifest process, made my heart of cold compress
put a hollow hole in your armpit
my conscious is monstrous like lochness. had to chill with the cess
‘cause when i slept, it gave me pains in my chest
amazingly stressed but still rep the o.b.s
brooklyn ac’s pistol at congress. iron-palmed grip

[hook: block mccloud] (x2)
taking ‘em back to school—learning now how to act a fool
son, you don’t want to battle. we
put your mind in detention. so pay attention
to the brooklyn academy

[verse 3: block mccloud]
there many hard-pressed to see me like hitler at a bar mitzvah
you’re part b-tch—you give me the urge to start with ya
your scars split the minute i start to spit the
lyrics that carve into your carc-ss like a carpenter
my sharp jig’ll make your heart splinter
my inner cult is harsh winters in antarctica
my alcoholic style is brolic. you think you fly?
fly swatting—you [prob caught it?]. i’m a byproduct
a high product. smoke my chronic
kick like [?], hold a mic silent. my arm is bionic
with psychotic eyes high on the psionic
see that floor? you could die on it
i’m a [diabolic’s plot, plotting ‘em?]. put a shot in your eye socket
when my optic observe, you have to try and c-ck it
you shocked, kid? you had your prior knowledge
put it in your pocket, save it for later. for now, we skyrocket

[verse 4: i-see-on]
icon was born in the storm, bombing in nam
a firearm ringing for alarm fits in my palms
live and let die, bulletproof, bk, ny
armor to rise. we spark lye under the sky
vocally animate any rapper that battles half as straight
my cl-ss of explosive, ferocious flows make you dilapidate
surgically amputate, rehearsing these verses on masking tape
surviving shootouts where gods with thunderbolts conquered half the space
coming soon: rebirth of earth. be the month of june
while twelve indians arise to the cries of a bl–dy moon
the silent night. dead in my shoes like a lifeless christ
my mic device devoured by hours speaking of violent sites
we’ll reach the sun. vocally choking me made me eat my tongue
my life is like a violin. my heartbeat’s the drum
open the garden’s gates. a marvelous race traveling mars and space
icon the great run wild, stomping, charging like starving apes
my time’s soon. sitting for hours, watching a flower bloom
the wisest from osiris and midas lay in a silent tomb
i have the key. fuck a crowd—the streets answered me
monopoly, the parker brother game strategy
pentium chip characteristic, brain sodomy
so silly, yours, icon, brooklyn academy

[hook: block mccloud] (x2)
taking ‘em back to school—learning now how to act a fool
son, you don’t want to battle. we
put your mind in detention. so pay attention
to the brooklyn academy

- will tell

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