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prysm & poizon - psychic lyrics
[verse 1: poizon]
i’m a psychic, i don’t need no sidekick
bout to get turnt up when i burn up like a house on fire with them embers, yea
inferno, when i’m murderin’ flows like churro
no cure to this sickness, i’m sicker than covid, and i’m striking, lightning bolting
i’m a menace like dennis, make a racket like tennis, everybody when i get up know i’m never gonna let up to these idiots who thinkin that they really sick but they ain’t, no
my flow’s erupting volcano
ice cold with that bane flow, show ’em all what i’m made for
when i got it then i’m poppin’ everybody know i’m made for this
made for this, aim and i hit, they say i’m a kid, and i know that i am
but the flows still harder than most of those lambs
rambling on and on and on and on
i’m legitimate, you’re illiterate, like a little kid
just a little bit of ritalin, riddlin’ rappers like cinnamon
when i’m in the ninth inning, i’m pitching better than cookies in the middle of the night kitchen
never wanted any flowers but i get ’em by the hour, writing even when i’m in the shower, my divine power
they laugh at me, but then i’m gonna hit ’em with the masterpiece
they never knew i’m more fire than gasoline
bearin’ a beretta better run or getting gunned
i promise that won’t be fun, for you that is
i got fans on top of fans
couldn’t fit in minivans
i been fillin’ up the shows and i been stackin’ up the bands
got like way too many of ’em
i been way too high above ’em
ain’t n0body ever loved ’em
why you thinkin’ i’ma love ’em?
yes, i’m a god
tryna buy but i can’t be bought
i get sick by that thought
you sold a record, i sold a lot
yes, i’m a god
tryna buy but i can’t be bought
i get sick by that thought
you sold a record, i sold a lot
let’s go prysm
[verse 2: prysm]
yea, yea, yea, yea you saw the name
looking in fear when i maul this game
putting packs to packs, i’m savage, i’m back to the flame
abracadabra i’m magic, hat trick to you lames
all of you average, at least i’m actually sane
i don’t do it for money, and it’s not about the fame
i do it cuz it’s my hobby, and i body all of you fakes
it’s a bottle of water not a cup of what you think
i’d probably be sitting here writing ’bout something positive
but you mumblers comin’ here throwing punches at prodigies
put up with thunder now this storm here to knock you off your knees
and possibly and probably haunt ’em for all these centuries
repping the venom till i end with these wealthy cheats
too many l’s to keep, end the beef, endlessly, tends to begin and end
and begin again, rippin’ ’em, quick as heck
when i spit venom, gross
i’ll pick up the pen more
i got a bunch of dead foes
i’ma fortune teller to you ghosts
psychic when i’m spitting flows
let the death in at the door
heaven sent never sell my soul
ready for the next it never get old
fenantly testing all of you jokes
top of the gunna, hot like sriracha
top to bottom, bottled hot sauce
i’m an auto, bars are harder
going farther, flowing cardio
burn the bars down, i’m bouta arson
bars for every bar i depart, got me barfing
bend the bars like market carts, i’m carsick
[verse 3: ollivia armadison]
yeah, prysm, poizon, and armadison
back again, we the goats
fold opps up like envelopes
tell ’em bye like vamonos
yeah we got the hottest flow
best in this mix of em all
got a lot of tracks and i’m mixing em all
got a bit of issues and i’m fixing em all
yeah, i don’t really write that hot, barely scratching the surface
but lately i been feeling like i found my sense of purpose, i’m nervously persperating, contemplating and debating if my life is crazy or if it’s lazy, might be both so i just sit back and look at the view
i feel alive like when i’m next to you
recently, been feeling down
parents tryna take my crown
i been tellin’ ’em get out
these voices in my head are getting loud
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