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parallelz [cliff clavin & buttatones] - beef lyrics
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[cliff clavin]
we put our blood sweat and tears in this rap sh-t
and when it come to beats i’m like a mothaf-cking crackhead
never get enough, always coming back for more hits
approach your mics, better step with caution
cliff clavin stomping through the underground
grim swing the hammer put it down on you clowns
get some devil in your soul for your ante up
we the type of cats gon call you on your bluff
dead man’s hand holdings aces and eights
i got a ace in the hole i’ll be sealing your fate
this that hardcore music pummeling the track
crushing mothaf-ckers in the game like gunjack
so bring your crew we can go line for line
they might have your back but i got your spine
lyrically we a couple of heathens
so y’all don’t really want no beef just like vegans
[grim]
mothaf-ckers talk hard and i bet you they p-ss
let’s see their mothaf-cking faces when i step from the bush
put the mothaf-cking knife up to they neck and i’ll push
you ain’t real you cats are all net like a swoosh
i’ll leave those who approach me hurt for sure
you can get the hammer like loki versus thor
wish i could raid the slammers, open up the doors
call he-rs-s for your family and that i worst of all
dead rabbits we the first to brawl
you familiar with the law, that’ll first you’ll call
you starring at the mouth of the beast
y’all better bow to my feet or get surrounded and beat
i’ll lay you down in defeat face down in the creek
and i’m quick to f-cking air a p-ssy out like a queef
who want beef? we stomping out your fitted quick
acting like you pac like papa doc in the biggie fl1ck
[tones]
realest mothaf-cker tell you how it is to your face
the first time you little f-ggots had heart was mysp-ce
they ain’t who they claim to be on record, can’t relate
you got secrets in the streets that would make you seem sick
you opposite of what you drop or you spit
you got glocks but no clip, call the cops like a b-tch
you ain’t a boss, there ain’t no one ever under you
the only beef you queers ever had was number two
from mickey d’s, b-tch please you can’t spit with me
i spit lava, a moth to keep the fire liquidity
the scorpion king of the mediterranean
elemental source of energy i spit uranium
fundamental fire man, spirit shape shifter
stage spliff??, yo the weight’ll make you give up
dead rabbits savage, you don’t want no static
spit a free at your squad, it hit you like an automatic
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