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eddie ill & d.l. - exclusive (a trip below) lyrics
eddie ill & d.l. ft. poison pen, freestyle, breez evahflowin’, d-stroy, arjay mian, and kwest tha madd lad – “exclusive (a trip below) [aka fort flambé]”
[produced by cashus clay]
[intro: poison pen, (kwest tha madd lad), and d-stroy]
stronghold (mix squad, asf). what? uh, uh
[bridge 1: d-stroy]
which emcees is up next to squeeze?
with ‘nough expertise?
[verse 1: poison pen]
man who get hyped type to get queefed. you didn’t realize emcees bleed easy
got many casualties in battles. doctors give my adversaries freebies
flow in 3-d like dolly parton bras
don’t care who you are. we’re shooting for the stars
like solarity stalkers, lyrical wizardry
sometimes i wish these emcees rhymed between parentheses
mention me to herbs and they stay silent, ’cause, word up
straight up and down wiling like wider mommas who wear cups
the world live more violently. you tried to get your poison
use my style against me, i’m immune to my own poison
employ us soldiers, n-ggas getting set up by females
when used as your verdict, you getting unabombed through emails
it’s pitiful. death from initiation ritual
full-fledged mvp, master of the lyrical
poison pen cement, not a grip, precisely skip it
my man look medusa in the eye, now we got our flavor
[verse 2: freestyle]
ask me if i give a f-ck
n-ggas’ll get beat up, i’m quick to erupt
i’m ripping that -ss in half even if we signed a prenup
i’m looney, but f-ck fighting. i’m putting hundred percent on it
and my n-ggas is still shutting it, brother, so you don’t want it
half–ssed emcees, i’m breaking them down in fractions of a second
hundreds are losing hopes, cracking poems fast like lyrical tekken
don’t bother asking who done it—y’all know i did it
flipped and ripped your arm the f-ck off and knocked your man out with it
that’s how our cards are dealt. i’ll make sure my presence is felt
rock dope as i cast through the asteroid belts
my rhymes and this militia malicious, fulfilling your filthy wishes
d-stroy and freestyle, we’ll be in sync/sink like dirty dishes
incinerating the imitating, never procrastinating
your wig could get split. the jig is your sh-t’s full of traumatization
still a demonstration, your incubation’s just beginning
i’m spinning like wax from x-rays tables and winning
[verse 3: breez evahflowin’]
to battle me’s beyond risk. i’m iller than the morgue gets
goodnight-type fl!cks. not the fight with chicks
but i write with bricks to leave ‘em toothless when they bite this ish
your crew be like, “yo, he’s aight with this”
check it. priceless gems stem from the pen
fems find attractive like i’m rapping for them
tapping them skins, winning with flows you can’t stage
stronghold, arsonists hooking up fort flambé
your man be your man, then he heard me and he lost it
brought you applications for your local post office
lose your mic interest or get sacked at fourth and inches
the fifth element utilizing sixth senses
deadly like seven sins, the eighth wonder
in my lifetime, volume number nine drop dimes on crews
who’ll still be back there, checking one, two
confront you with ghetto ebonics like onyx
[verse 4: d-stroy]
i’ma destroy standing in my d-stroy stance
like channel nine, i’ma make you pee in your pants
you got a lady, brother. run to her. i’m the punisher
up in the battles, toe-to-toe, i’m making fun of ya
arsonists the top of the line, rocking the rhyme
stack in your mind, make you want to kiss my c-ck and behind
stop and rewind until it’s understood, you crumbs should
do some good and listen to this one hook. none of you
bums could ever beat this here ’cause i’ll defeat you, queer
what you believe is fear. battle you for your easter gear
disturbing, trying to have it quicker than that nasty rabbit
’cause we’re back and me and mic like costello and abbott
satisfying, you live like addicts. the rican they appoint “the crazy”
i’ll rip mics apart like what doctors do with jointed babies
showing you g’s, we clever, growing like trees
you never knowing the st–z, forever blowing like breez
[verse 5: arjay mian]
heavy with merchandise, wise and input data chip
info like computer chip, spit verses like banana clip
whether with the penmanship or roasting property
turban, i give turbulence. the weak eminems
and emcees, peep it please. listen to my demolition
in constant collision, they’re yelling, “put that guy in prison!”
i cut them off like traffic. life ain’t fair
but is it fair i’m going to get? mess around with me
i’m coming after you like, “flee!” my style’s nice but half-evil
like 333, r-a-b
from the p-pullz, number one. rock you like rebels without a gun
dripping. like beef does, i’m flipping
off the hook like cow carc-ss ready for shipping
i’ll see you slipping into darkness, decreasing
like the harmless, you ain’t reaching. very refuted truth brush
my toothbrush like hands, lasting, ever-battling
like carvel and baskin. falalala!
[verse 6: kwest tha madd lad]
wack emcees hate him, never could appreciate or tolerate him
so when they test, i’ll select the texts that’ll sedate or obliterate ’em
let my verbatim penetrate and disintegrate ’em. leaving radios
and people seeing some out of this world creationator
don’t get caught sleeping or i’ll distort your thought sleepers
your infant mom will cry, “abort me,” to the mic core kevorkian
lines slides throughs it and lubricant ooze within tube distance
from the music and whose mission is to get you to listen to true spitting
a hallucinogen is produced when the pen is introduced
to the spin of my palm, forming a bond that creates the face lines
that lace minds like stimulus. when chopped percussion
and samples invented, then words i state make c-ssette tapes
transform shape and escape decks to inject havoc like rumbling rowdy
the humblest savage equipped with a carriage
of those who mumble the average, offs your hip hop caucus
stop minds twenty-one thous’ six hundred seconds faster
you mic check before you catch wreck
when i bless, check i’m after you, b-st-rds
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