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The Corrupted EP

by No Neck Beats

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1.
Green Lit 03:33
GREEN LIT Lyrical criminal, rip you with the quizzical, My mass is critical, the way I rip clinical/ Still you wanna do me dirty, like rotten imbeciles, Still I'll give it to you wordy, by dropping syllables/ Verbs & nouns that I be known to throw down, So gather round' again cos' it's about to go down/ I'm like a pro how the way I flow now, But treated like the popo rolling through Motown/ You get mowed down I'm coming through landscaping, Find my true form on drums my crew man's shaping/ Spit with clarity for charity no translating, You shook rookies drop the mic with your hands shaking/ Your placating, it's where the hate comes from, You would think I'm baking chickens the way I shake up crumbs/ You dressed in Sunday best? I cook ya fake thug son Cos' I'll show up to battle looking like a straight up bum/ No joke bro, I'll roll up like the hobo, version of Michael Myers and stab you faggots up "No homo"/ Liquid sword pro, flow to paint a photo, That you sit and study with dissection feinting slow-mo/ Rock the rewind/pause, you sit and screen shit, Jock the free mind cause I spit to scene rip/ Lock the steez in jaws, you and your team bit, Gawking at displeasing flaws, you're getting green lit/ Red light, yellow light, green light, go, Pay the price to eat and bite a mean tight flow/ Wrapped inside of lies to get your team hype, though, You've never even seen a stage or a gleaming beam light show/ You's a dreaming mic pro, try and get your views straighter, You need to clean your dome, try and get some clues hater/ You sit at home a plagiarizing tool scraper, Truth of the matter is you couldn't rip a mic made of newspaper/ You drop the ball when it comes down to crunch time, I stay Kabal and dummy with another punchline/ I watch you fall, all you seeing is the sunshine, Laying on your back, still biting, eating like it's lunchtime/ I'm like a holy man with the verses, I'm like Bubba Ho-Tep with curses/ Get riddled with words I disperses, I see you in I.C.U. with the nurses/ No apologies for leaving you a mess hoe, My worst flow still outweighs your best flow/ Spitting venom snake, Cobra like I'm Destro, Learnings half the battle, try and G.I. like the rest Joe/ Dead zone, between your neck and vest, where your seam split, Collect head pieces with my breezy teeth that squeeze spit/ I don't settle for second so see me seize shit, One word seeps from these lips, & you're getting green lit
2.
Pipeline 04:15
PIPELINE (noun: gossip spread by spoken communication) (Chorus) You heard it through the grape vine, So you shared it on your Facebook time line, Glaring, try to snipe minds/ Little white lies, tweeting & you Skype lies, Hitting social media and fiend-ing as you type lines/ Never realized it might not be the right time, Instead of seeking the truth, you choose to ruse em' with your hype, blind/ Writing guise, that could affect somebody's lifetime, & fuck what you heard, the words are coming through a pipeline/ (V1) Gossip spread by communication, Dictionary definition, ill defamation/ A declaration without proof or confirmation, Information twisted way beyond delation Graph & take clues, instead of ask & straight shoot, Never going to the source instead your path lay askew/ Laugh & make stew, with your half baked views, Change your name to Fox or CNN you're daft fake news/ Loose lips slinging mud on your frame, Bullshit run in the mud with your name/ Hunch in ears whispering delay tone again, A bunch of fifth graders, playing the telephone game/ Claims travel, from person to person worsen the filter, Actions out of order and your words out of kilter/ Lies build pillars in a twister, The bag of beans is a lying bitch, but still you spilt her/ I thought things would fade as we grew weary and older, Your "true boys" slinging lies with burying boulders/ School games behind still be carrying over, Screwed stories flying in a varying order/ Move forward with the fodder, but you ain't even got your facts straight, Ham n egger jobbers, stop before your backs break/ Carrying the weight and the fate, deceiving axed mates Verbal diarrhea leaking, seething, eat ex-lax straight/ Slack jawed, mouth gape, words just drooling, Slipping from your lips, dripping down your chin, Around the ground pooling/ How many people have you been fooling? Stooling like a pigeon while you digging for re-fueling/ Never ruling out the grueling trouble people go through, Two faced Gemini's I got two knives for both you/ Living in a bullshit society, it's so true, Lie for notoriety the pipeline has no clue
3.
GAMES WITHOUT FRONTIERS Whistling tunes, we hid in the dunes, while we free-styled by the seaside/ Whistling tunes we piss on the goons, down in the jungle, drum pound rumble/ (verse 1) Muthafuckas wanna battle, but can't believe it when I freestyle, They run and tattle to the teacher like some weak child/ My words will beat you up & smack you down, meanwhile, My brain is steady streaming lines that run about a sea mile/ Sticking victims since the day they let the beast wild, Off the dome pro even when I'm old and senile/ Amusing clown, your bitch bewitched I switch to beguile, And turn you cuck she starts to suck now watch me defile/ I run amok and doggy fuck her on her knees now, You sit in the corner jerking your dick under a green towel/ It clearly isn't a secret you got them weak bowels, The way you shit your pants every time I speak vowels/ Sick to your stomach, evident you reak of leaked bile, Added to your ever growing heap of pissy jeans pile/ Still hating so you run-a-mouth with revile, I'm shutting down your seeping jowls with rhyme sheet files/ Whistling tunes, we hid in the dunes, while we free-styled by the seaside/ Whistling tunes we piss on the goons, down in the jungle, drum pound rumble/ My brains happening, what's happening in my brain, The same reaction that's got me rapping again/ I still play in the game, although the games been played, I bet I'll lay in my grave before my name has been made/ Never shot for the stars, the stars never shot me, Never stop because the bars forever got me/ Leave my obscure "fame" to live out long years, Playing till' I'm dead in games without frontiers/ Whistling tunes, we hid in the dunes, while we free-styled by the seaside/ Whistling tunes we piss on the goons, down in the jungle, drum pound rumble/ (verse 3) If looks could kill, they probably will, Still getting sicker but I'm already ill/ Hero of the night, soar to new heights, Still getting higher but I'm high as a kite/ Chasing gloom, in line with doom, & still I'm embraced, by the tribes of the moon/ Murdering words, perverted with verbs, Still the bodyguard for the geeks and the nerds/ Fuck the negativity, it's never getting me, All these years later still about creativity/ The strain in my brain, the pain in my lane, The same reaction that's got me rapping again/ Still not played, still getting betrayed, I bet I'll lay in the grave before my name has been made/ No tears to give, I never gave out tears, Playing till' I'm dead in games without frontiers/ Whistling tunes, we hid in the dunes, while we free-styled by the seaside/ Whistling tunes we piss on the goons, down in the jungle, drum pound rumble/
4.
EMPTY PROMISES Leave em' facing the floor stiff you can't phase me I roll pain in black, blazing more shit up than a crazy pyromaniac/ A pack a matches back in 83' enslaving me, Crack em' in a patch of dry grass, & laugh at people trying to save a tree/ Now people think Im hailing Satan see, the truth of the matter is Christ for kids failed at saving me/ (Fable)fake buddies, bible camp study, Earning badges but I'd rather beat you with the book until my hands bloody/ Born with the darkness, born with the curses, Trying to shed some light reciting passages & verses/ I'd kneel and prey at the side of my bed, And beg, the holy light, to put a sign in my head/ Just another black void transforms the stark blasphemer, still stuck traveling with my dark passenger/ He's planning massacres and plotting with the swiftness, Scribbling in blood, jotting kids down on the shit list/ Pass another year, the older I get, the more evil I feel, Trying to get a grip but he's the one holding the steering wheel/ I'd hit the brakes but he silencing my will, Ain't got no license to drive but got a license to kill/ Then I found the ill green around the age of fourteen, & now I'm thinking about killing a lot less more teens/ Still diseased with the anti-terrene, But when I'm cooking B.T.s I'm feeling plenty serene/ Brain still painting scenes that are sick and obscene, The macabre in my frontal lobe be picking my dreams/ Rest and I slip in slumber fall right there, Blessed with a bliss that you people call nightmares/ But these are heavenly delights in my minds eye, Curb em' with the herb I'm lighting siphoning a blind high/ Guiding light, but your God is mighty ominous, I sit and think about this, all the empty promises/ The government tried to police pot, fuck what the police thought, I'd love to raid their evidence rooms and blaze what the police got/ Censor my thoughts & my freedom of speech? Living like its Marshall Law but who's policing the police?/ My mouthpiece spit the raw illest context, Trying to play God, but you got a Godzilla complex/ Disguised devils who be mopping with the holy glow, Wanna stop a movement like they're stomping out Tokyo/ My manifestos invested all my ramblings, Rantings and ravings injected with my gambling/ Trolling through mics with rap stables of strife, Rolling snake eyed dice on the crap tables of life/ You can take your lucky sevens son and shove them up your back door, The heavens never wanted Kevin, dwelling in the black more/ A dark lord with stark words from vocal chords, Small flock of followers drumming up the local hordes/ Pissing on religion since the father at my christening, I ponder why I even bother when nobody's even fucking listening/ The big book couldn't save me, Had a revelation blazing pages on the daily/ Genius or insanity? It doesn't really matter see, I do this for my piece of mind & not for you to flatter me/ My dark tunnel doesn't have a holy light, The only lights I see are ones I put to shit rolled tight/ (Chorus)

about

After a hard drive corruption a few tracks came back to life.

credits

released November 18, 2017

Music and Beats Produced by No Necks Beats for 5 Count Music.
All Lyrics by Kabal

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No Neck Beats Brampton, Ontario

Producing beats and music for a peaceful hobby. This page is a place to finish my creative work flow. Most beats start on ipad/iPhone/Maschine then ended up in the pc. True story.

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