Black Spasmodic
(专辑: We Got It From Here... Thank You 4 Your Service - 2016)
Yo, y'all ready? Yo, Phife, you ready? Cons, you got that part right? I
dunno but it don't matter who choose to set it off ATCQ, no doubt my niggas is boss Little half-ass rappers, y'all pissing me off Time to dead 'em all off, yo, no matter the
cause [Consequence:] (Black) They don't make thugs of this calibre (Spasmodic) Who kept up the
buzz the
whole calendar (Black) Used to sell drugs out the
Challenger (Spasmodic) Used to keep guns with the
silencers (Black) They don't make thugs of this calibre (Spasmodic) Who kept up a
buzz the
whole calendar (Black) Used to sell drugs out the
Challenger (Spasmodic) Now look what he does to any challenger Now who want it with the
Trini gladiator? The
finger to you haters, you biters not innovators I
take zero for granted, I
honors my gift Champion pen game, plus I'm freestyle equipped You clowns be bum sauce, speak my name, it's curtains Hamdulillāh my crew's back to working Trash rap the
dead pussy, kill the
turban Fuck boys, sit down, shit can only get worsen How do you touch mic with flows uncertain? Speak game tribal, that flow ain't working Folks doing items, dem vex and cursing Fuck made me wanna see these niggas in person Third song in, muthafuckas dispersing Only to realize Gana loose in the
building Big tune this for man, woman and children Back on my bullshit, Busta bust then we kill them [Consequence:] (Black) They don't make thugs of this calibre (Spasmodic) Who kept up the
buzz the
whole calendar (Black) Used to sell drugs out the
Challenger (Spasmodic) Used to keep guns with the
silencers My nigga's spirit be talking to me, let me explain Not through evil mediums, tarot cards or Ouija games But through mixing chords and boards and even drum machines He be saying, "Nigga fuck awards, keep repping Queens And don't be taking slack from these non-rapping niggas, man That intellectual shit you spit, you better change your plan Especially when you see them at the
lobby of a
label And they don't seem able to outstretch they hands and admit they fans You better flame 'em in the
J's that they standing in Ostracize they memory for not remembering The
articles reduce their body parts to particles And dust the
Dead Sea with their cremated molecules I'm leaving, but nigga you still got the
work to do I
expect the
best from you, I'm watching from my heaven view Don't disappoint me, make sure that they anoint me As the
blue ribbon pedigree, the
best of show five-foot-three Speak of the
legacy for short people around the
world Napoleonic bionic people who cause the
world to twirl Rip every stage with grace, look right dead in they face Live the
Tribe principle of having impeccable taste Enjoy that breath like that one was your last one left If you don't believe me, Tip, there's truly life after death So refer to the
Biggie covers and shoutout my Trini brothers And please check in on my mother," Malik Izaak, call me shorty [Consequence:] (Black) They don't make thugs of this calibre (Spasmodic) Who kept up the
buzz the
whole calendar (Black) Used to sell drugs out the
Challenger (Spasmodic) Used to keep guns with the
silencers (Black) (Spasmodic)