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x-ray - run the sphere (monster mixes vol. 1 version) كلمات الأغنية

x-ray da mindbenda ft. monsta island czars (ft. kong, rodan, megalon, king cesar, kamackeris, king geedorah, and jet jaguar) – “run the sphere (monster mixes vol. 1 version)”
[emcee(s): kong, rodan, megalon, king cesar, kamackeris, king geedorah, and jet jaguar]
[producer(s): x-ray da mindbenda]
[sample (melody): charles bernstein – “laying the trap”]

[hook: sample from loch ness on rodan ft. monsta island czars – “run the sphere v.2.3 (theophany: the book of elevations version)] (x3)
hold up
those that knows i knows closed eyes ain’t always sleep
n-gga

[verse 1: kong]
we got
the glocks c-cked, n-ggas stuck slow, f-ck slow. smack
the sh-t out ‘em, should have called brickface and stucco
“uh oh!” like maaco, some nickel pesos in the ny
adore west, they fly flows and ask, “kong, can i?”
slash precise, i roll with spice, caught a life, head
to houston without whitney—you could even ask the preacher’s wife
blao, back ‘em up. f-ck the grammar—that’s word to k!ll
i dropped evander ‘cause he’s standing on my holyfields
slash m-e-l, yo, k slash m-e
‘cause emcees often envy the vocal style ten-deep
one two, mic check. next one step up
speedy k slashed, your f-cking heinz couldn’t ketchup

[verse 2: rodan]
the world’s
indictment of my mathematics made me a control freak—witness
the foulest sh-t, and accurate calculus in every word i speak
geometric motion’s in every action i see. you got
a mean streak? you -ss like b-tt cheeks up sh-t’s creak
make your future bleak, life on drunken binges. wild maverick
on the outskirts of society fringes, hanging onto
the door of sanity by the hinges, interdimension transmission
transitions, charge the heartless a dollar-and-a-half
buck fifty—that’s a facial circ-mcision. rest in peace
big l, big pun, biggie smalls, freaky tah, and 2pac
allah blessed david force, family haze, tigger, tony mone
and dj subroc. y’all snitching cow mother-
-f-ckers, suck a fat c-ck

[verse 3: megalon]
streetlights
with cameras, i’ll walk the beat like beast that can’t stand us. hand-
-to-hand gram-handlers, scanners and scramblers, street-life
gamblers, tommy mantana—word to nana—banana clips going
bananas in the land of guzzle, bust holes in bandanas, snub-nosed
blood on my clothes, cancer, lap dances, black
panthers, three dot branding us, street fights
with hammers, black and spanish zlatans and blacks with bad
manners and bandages dance to this, bust hoes and mark
the cannons

[verse 4: king cesar]
ayyo
i spit fast like whiplash and i dash when i dip cl-ss
my sh-t last like good stash, type of hype make your whip crash
sniff c0ke and smoke gr-ss, suck-d-ck and kiss–ss
break gl-ss and breakdance, break law and take chance
yo, exit to the next sh-t. it’s real
i’ll saw you into pieces like richie aprile
i’ll sh-t on you just like my f-cking loud deal
introducing king cesar with that dogface grill
fifty meters tall, thirty-thousand tons
representing full-circle for my monsta island duns

[hook: sample from loch ness on rodan ft. monsta island czars – “run the sphere v.2.3 (theophany: the book of elevations version)] (x4)
hold up
those that knows i knows closed eyes ain’t always sleep
n-gga

[verse 5: kamackeris]
we’re some underground brothers on a bubble. what you want?
trouble? have you underneath in the rubble, yo
i’ll drug you with these nicks, dime bags
and eight-b-lls. no mistake, y’all, we break y’all
all it is is a phone call—we’ll be right
there, shorty in the back know this thing ain’t
fair, but we don’t care. somebody should have
let you know: we show love and, sometimes, yo
we let it go. it be harder than death row
while y’all n-ggas rhyming so-so, we cop divine
dough

[verse 6: king geedorah]
it’s the one king geedorah, the three who closed the deal for
eleven million lira—she looked like vera brother
she had the fatty but an ugly motherf-cker who stay up
in the mirror forever. it’s all clever
whatever floats your rowboat, specialist in our ears
no stroke, the hoes vote, bald-headed coochies to the
hoochies with the t-tties that fall flat, people looking
pretty and all that

[verse 7: jet jaguar]
quake beats like earth with profanity and sanity
musical exorcism haunting tracks like it’s amity
n-ggas we’re burning, intentions affirming
as the beat rocks and we plot on compet-tion
mic’s a mac-11, add the vocal ammunition, -ss-
-whipping’s are dished to those who feel better
get ‘em, we c-ck the mic back and then we wet ‘em
brain-burner microwave thoughts like it’s swanson
fast learner acc-mulate units until it’s platinum
defeat us? come on, n-gga, that sh-t ain’t happening
f-ck the rapping sh-t. avoid me
‘cause when i’m paranoid, motherf-cker, i be capping sh-t
i’m mapping out sh-t, my man, plans to become
millionaires before we disappear from this atmosphere

- x ray

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