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Beasts From The East
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[Weatherman] The forecast: showers heavy at times with occasional thunderstorms today, and a high of 89 degrees. Partial clearing tonight with a low of 74. (Word up. The cop said to me, "Yo kid! Damn!") [Mr. Cheeks] Yo, we come through like Bulls, see niggas takin two pulls and pass Nigga, watch your back once you talk out your ass I pack a .380 in my stash for protection Family deranged, the world is acting crazed I never thought I'd make it, it was hectic when I scrambled On point like a knife I'm takin life as a gamble Livin in the rotten apple, ayo where every core is rotten All my niggas rest in peace you see you gone but not forgotten Now my main wifey, dead as shady chicks Official Lost Boy since the year of '86 And fuck these crooked niggas I could kill 'em with the passion At times I feel like slashing in Jamaica Queens fashion You think, you can fuck around, but kid you just thinking It's over when I'm sober, imagine when I'm drinking Without blinking man, I'll tear your crew like pages I'll rip you from the backyards, puff chants in stages [A+] A+ the lyrically superb one Spittin rhymes off the top of the tongue to burn ya ear drum Rotten shit, make the opposite team call a time out Knockin niggas three time my size out The crowd loves me, so when I ain't around they ask for me I buckle up and catch wreck like a crash dummy For the fast money, I get up in that ass money The fact you tryin' to test me kinda bugs me I leave crews fed up, like handicap niggas tryna get up Emcees get wet up with lyrical gun pellets I blow up the spot when it's time to rock I speak out my voice box'll peak out at a hundred watts Who wanna cipha? I get dumb Word to my mother, the Father, the Holy Ghost and Rev. Run When it's all said and done, I end the service Get cocked in the type of verses average emcees worship [Redman (Canibus)] Yo yo yo, yo big dog turn the track up (Fuck how you feel, fuck with the lyrical skills and get peeled) Yo fake emcees step to the rear Real emcees bring this shit up north (Fuck how you feel, fuck with the lyrical skills and get..) My style is Milk of Magnesia, clutch defies speeding bus The more the merrier, secure the area My life familiar, is ultimate superior We don't jack cars, we jack for aircraft carriers I bounce like trampolines, when I be blowing the fiends to pieces Hem 'em like sewing machines and Jesus When the shadows of the barrel pointing out my boy Camaro I get punished like pharaoh for splittin' You better off singing Christmas carols for Christmas because I'm on point like bow and arrow, equipment The president of chicken head conventions I give you a deluxe Ku Klux lynchin' I got a headache from the, stress success not wearing a vest 5-11 for being dirty, quartz at 9:30 Yo, Mr.Cheeks, I made this bitch call police She tried swallowing the nine piece but got a warranty on false teeth I return like Makaveli on 18

Posted By: PetitLyrics
Number of PetitLyrics Plays:3


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