1. |
Green Lit
03:33
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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
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2. |
Pipeline
04:15
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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
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3. |
Games Without Frontiers
03:53
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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/
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4. |
Empty Promises
04:42
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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)
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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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