音效
界面
难度等级
口音
界面语言
1
和/或在社交方面支持我。网络:
Death To Mumble Rap
(专辑: Terminal - 2020)
This a
warning shot to every motherfucking Little one-hit-wonder, rap mumble brother Crypt and I
figured it'd pay the
bundle So we teamed up top five dead or alive We're bringing the
rain and thunder going insane I'll be chopping, like a
helicopter blade Man the
wolf's begun to hunt the
jungle Stomach rumbles, looking for something, damn Where the
fuck's Lil Pump at? I'm kinda hungry These kitties better never come to my city Come to the
Windy you gon' get nothing but animosity Midwest monopolies, monstrosities Rap god, I'ma leave the
beat in poverty! Hostility, drop a
bomb on the
enemy Artillery, blowing up your auxiliary Hit 'em with the
intercontinental capabilities Leaving no stability In the
Middle East, Benghazi, Hillary, yeah Will I
be a
kamikaze and kill a
beat? Nobody really wanted this smoke So I'm hitting 'em with the
Juul pod Nicotine, smoking 'em like a
chicken in the
rotisserie Finger on the
fricking detonator, incinerating And straight eviscerator, I
consider eliminating Every hater in the
visible vicinity like Arnold Schwarzenegger Terminator, fucking mumble rap exterminator Then again I
spit it, wicked, demented and venomous 'Cause I'm sick of the
bitter freaking digging and reaping the
benefits When I'm rapping it like a
missile disintegrated in remnants I'm beginning to be the
reaper, so I
load the
MAC attack! (Doo-doo!) Everybody dies when I
nuke you Screws loose, losing my mind, I'm going cuckoo Who knew I
would be the
rap Babe Ruth? Jesus in suede shoes, I
hit 'em and straight shoot The
skeletons walk through the
elements Wordsmith, the
Letterman, way too competitive Rap with the
best of 'em, the
veterans And I've just entered the
seventh level I
held the
devil, mama, made it out the
ghetto So how the
fuck can I
not be the
illest when I
feel like a
villain Killing anybody at will, I'm villainous, still a
gorilla I'm pillaging villages and buildin's, pavilions King Kong, I'm prolly making a
song for Kim Jon So ching-chong, kiddies sing-along As I'm ripping about the
quickest Yeah, when I'm picking apart the
rap And I
put the
pen the
pad And Peter Piper picking a
pickled pepper Peter, I
picked it next I
figure that I'm doing this straight, just shitting tracks at mumble rap Gucci gang, Gucci gang, Gucci gang (Brrt!) Shooting range, too much rage, who to slay? Gripping, I
weaponize all the
rhymes, they demise To the
mumble gods when we hit 'em like it's MMA Gucci-Gucci-Gucci-Gucci-Gucci gang Murder everybody like a
shooting rampage Yeah, kill 'em all, Fentanyl, blow 'em up Molotov, mazel tov, death to mumble, I
rule the
game (Sheesh! Yo') Yo, I'm not a
hater, but I'll call a
nigga out on his shit I
see a
lot of people making money off of the
kids They popping pills, tryna hide they real feels See somebody OD, then be surprised when it happens to them I'm counter-culture, y'all some vultures, fuck that! Praying on they downfalls and bump that! Use this music, dudes is foolish? Ignorant niggas flashing they cash, blowing money they don't have Flow infinite, I
let 'em all rent it, and I
laugh Futuristic the
illest with the
pen and the
pad Since a
young lad, been out as the
gun blast I
was writing raps while you was still watching Rugrats Ante, I'ma up that (Uh) Put your money where your mouth is, you don't want smoke, your lung's black Took a
year off to sing on a
bunch of songs I
was tired of rap, but now I'm joining with a
comeback (Sheesh!) I'm tired of verses without a
purpose (Yeah) I'm tired of guns in the
videos (Uh huh) I'm sick of faking it until you make it That shit don't make sense when you really broke I'm sick of that mumbling BS That music that regress, I
just wanna see less I'm tired of seeing the
homies on shirts With the
R.I.P letters right off of they heat press! (Damn) Get yo' mind right When the
time right, I
know that they'll reflect You don't gotta listen to my music, it's cool But you do gotta show the
young man respect Or my hand up on yo' neck 'til I
stretch the
cords Mumble rap: zero, us: four, check the
score (Woo!) There's somebody to come at me, I'm the
best with wars I
move in silence, coming up like Tesla doors! Uh (Unh! Yeah! Hunh!) I
don't really know what to do, be coming and spit fast Flow so immaculate, give me a
pat on the
back Like I'm Brady and Belichick, I
got these haters in check, I
leave a
mess if They thinking of stepping up to the
best, then give 'em whiplash Whether if you nodding up and down from the
beat or the
track I'm giving 'em uppercuts 'til their feet is up in their ass I'ma kill a
mumbling motherfucker before he kill somebody else With the
message that he's tryna make on the
past Hello, motherfucker, you heard me right? Guess it's hard to listen when your head is filled with purpose right? Get murked tonight, 'cause bitches like you deserve to die Get hurt inside with rhymes and it's absurd that I
Have to come back and reiterate this shit I'ma charge you a
fee for extending my hit list Play stupid games, win stupid prizes They'll have you forever looking at the
back of your eyelids And yeah, we just got back from a
funeral Luke, Mac, Crypt and Futuristic, it was beautiful We had to say goodbye to some of the
ignorants in the
game But that's what happens when they ruin the
image that we portray We don't play around, the
audience should know it now Now I'm not saying we played a
part in the
death But to be honest if ever the
blame goes around We take responsibility 'fore we dig 'em up and kill 'em again! (Woo!) Oh, y'all sell tickets like Marvel Movies? Well I
still hate it like Scorsese Y'all are just food from McDonald's And I
am a
gourmet filet that's more tasty I'm more crazy than a
short lady Tryna' give birth to 84 babies In the
very back of a
Porsche Cayman I
bury rappers then pour pavement Just because you're rapping fast, doesn't mean that you're saying something Y'all muhfuckers rap so damn slow that somehow you're literally saying nothing Just because you can rap fast, doesn't mean that you can rap good Well, just because you can rap at all, doesn't mean that your motherfucking ass should Should'a, could'a, would'a hit a
hood up with a
psycho Analytical, metaphysical mastermind, I'm making a
fucking mockery Of anybody making an attempt at taking the
fucking top from me I
brutalize the
beat and get the
broccoli (Bru-bru!) Build a
Tommy gun and then the
bodies come (Du-du-du-du-du-du!) Here the
choppers come Everybody gotta win, you gotta get aboard There's blood up in the
ocean water, and it's washing to the
shore, aye I'm rotten to the
core, catch a
body, maybe four I'm gonna drop you to the
floor, like this is Gatti versus Ward I
got a
shotty and a
sword, in fact, I'm already at war You know I
got a
perfect score, but I'ma stomp on you some more You'll be dead, body in the
morgue, talking to the
lord You ain't got an audience no more, all of 'em are bored You don't party anymore, nobody watches when you perform Now you gotta go and get a
job at the
Gucci store Gucci gang, Gucci gang, Gucci gang Song is two years old, gee whiz, who would think? Pull your motherfucking pants up, your coochie stank Fuck the
dumbass tats on your stupid face I'd rather listen to Wu-Tang I'd rather listen to Luke and Crypt I'd rather listen to Futuristic And you'd rather listen to this I'm about to really go insane if the
game Gives even a
half a
lil' bit of fame To another motherfucker that got lil' in his name Fuck Gucci, you should join the
literacy gang Kids used to want to be astronauts in space Now kids wanna put tats up on they face All we tryna be is the
best MCs This the
death of mumble rap, rest in peace
完毕