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orinoco - master of the rhymes كلمات الأغنية

chorus
i will never soften up
i will never give up
to many i’m hated
i turn blood to wine
like i’m divine
pour it into bottles
an army of apostles
to preach my gospels
to p-ss the time
i became a master of the rhyme

verse 1
yo i’m the irish jesus armed with great white jaws
with bars so perfect other rappers can’t compete with my flaws
some say i have a weird personality, the type to burst into an insanity
the beast with rage, that won’t seize to amaze
i’ll just leave you in a haze, makin you sh-t yourself while you breathe on my blade
i’m sicker than a hospital patient diseased with aids
an undead emcee that’ll feast on your brains
i swarm your rhymes like africanised honey bee hives
my poetry flows like alcohol remedying your lives
i roll like gypsies in a caravan, filled with bombs like i’m the taliban
travelling through afghanistan, looking for the border to pakistan
i arrive at your house to pelt it with bottles of ciders, kopparbergs, magners, guiness and harp
you know how i do i rhyme from the heart
(chorus)
verse 2
yo i’m on conservation watch an endangered emcee with a flow so rare
a constant irritation like the guy from go compare
not an ugly guy but i’ll k!ll you with a cold stare
my words carry more weight than the biteforce of a polar bear
i’ll throw you off your seat and beat you with a foldin chair
and kick your -ss from here to the artic and leave you over there
my mouth spits heat and my -ss fires solar flares
my raps won’t stop till diamonds break and my message is well deployed
and i collapse the earth shake the foundations of the underworld till h-ll’s destroyed
i arrive at a rap congregation with beer and lager
when i start to spit people begin clearin the cypher
by the end of the verse they are fearin mcivor
because i attack outta nowhere with power and stealth like a siberian tiger
(chorus)
outro verse
i break bodies like bread
while you pray to be dead
resurrection of a new dawn
when i’m gone
you will remember the song
remember you’re inferior
to the creator
with a crown of th-rns
i’ll leave your scalp torn
to p-ss the time
i became a master of the rhyme

- orinoco

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