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kinetik - dead rappers lyrics
[intro: kinetik]
all i can see are dead rappers
every studio session is a funeral because when i’m done in the booth
i be stepping over dead bodies
that’s why there’s a funny smell in here
okay!
[scratched intro]
prepare for this rap k!lling
prepare for this rap k!lling
prepare for this rap k!lling
prepare for this rap k!lling
[verse 1: kinetik]
see i’m one of the sickest spitting with no inhibition
from the sound of the bell, i’m out to leave a clown on the shelf
even the ref is getting pounded as well
put it on you tube and tally up an extra hundred thousand in sales
zoomorphically i’m thought to be enormously beast like
i’m accordingly gory when i’m k!lling your cheap hype
so each fight is deep like a flurry of knee strikes
i heat mics without a piece of respite
so if the fee’s right, i’ll leave your jaw stuck
scr-ping on the floor like hwoar cause you’re awestruck
stiff in your disbelief, flows and hooks coming from a golden notebook
and no i never rip the sheets
so when this hits the streets, keep your fists discreet
or duck when i’m brandishing my poisonous darts
even mannequins will know their only choice is depart
so do the same cause your lame and your moist in the heart
[scratched hook]
i can write it or recite it off the top of the dome
here’s how it goes i am a g*nius, i mean this
say what you say
and throw down some ice for the nicest emcee
[verse 2: kinetik]
i got an amazing cadence laced with abrasive statements
making patrons place it on satan’s play list
face it, i made this for the greatest debaters
and you were never rated or adjacent when the pressure’s on
my echelon suggests my lexicon is extra strong
blessing the present though certain legends and vets are gone
i’m not a human cause i’m more like megatron
and my team of decepticons are getting lean off the energon
i’m like an 80s cartoon when i start flowing
i go in, you’re thinking maybe it’s my last tune
but less chit chatter, still i’m a c-cky dude
that’s blessed with the it factor, i’m the rap bobby roode
in the lab with a pad looking like some bible scriptures
ink hitting the page and spreading like viral sickness
so in your final minutes all you’re gonna see is me
with a big gold belt with no l’s or t-tle switches
[scratched hook & outro]
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