Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song House Of Games 2, artist - Locksmith. Album song A Thousand Cuts, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 14.04.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Landmark Entertainment
Song language: English
House Of Games 2 |
Yeah |
Yo—yo |
Stick a fork in his corpse, cordially courting |
Sourcing his portion for organs, give metaphors an abortion |
A portrait of poor sportsmen, endorse and remorse towards him |
I torch his vocal cords 'til his course is the four horsemen |
Your core’s forcing, they roar but I’m board snoring |
A smorgasbord of endorphins, I’m dwarfing your dwarf swordsmen |
I retort but of course no recourse for it |
I’m more of a moor, that’s why my rapport discourse for it |
I’m forming a fort, forcing proportions that pour forward |
Sort of a four-fifth to your orifice you poor bitch |
Forfeit, tryna spit with this nigga, I forewarned him |
Waging a war, décor of Muhammed or George Foreman |
Performing vocal expressions that questions the status quo |
Inhabit no sense of worth when you barely can pack a show |
Distracted by the fact that I was too rabid impacted by |
The shit that people said, but instead let amplified |
And niggas want a response, my response; |
«Keep waiting» |
Fools rush in, smart niggas keep patient |
Chasing the next man, the best plan developed wrong |
Fuck rushing a freestyle my nigga, make a better song |
I don’t know what to say |
Yo, Yo, one round Roger Mayweather, Rocky Lockridge |
Who better to rock with than the Locksmith, stop it with the gossip |
Sweat when the clock tock tick |
The plot got thick, the bomb like the rhyme that AK kicked |
Body bashing, bruised, broken bones, bloody mosh pits |
Truth telling is labeled hate speeches, these poisonous brain leaches |
Smack the principals and rape the fake teachers |
Hypocritical Hollywood hoodlums that make features |
Political pandering preachers that desecrate Jesus |
Dumbing down the society, everything is over-simplified |
Cowards are put on pedestals and heroes are villainized |
My organization Untouchable Force, Ice Mix Master |
And life’s shit baffling, fight bitches staggering |
Towards this white dick javelin, dispatching 'em, every lyrical diss catching |
'em |
Distracting 'em, pistol packing click clacking 'em |
You can’t claim title with no win first |
You’re a bigger pussy than the pussy when it give birth |
Keeping the poor in the prison |
Rhyme like a '90s cat from Rawkus was spitting |
Reflection Eternal and Nas in the source, It Was Written |
Not influenced by any corporate decision, I ignore your opinion |
I’m the GOAT above Fraizer, Norton, Foreman and Liston |
Laws of religion cause the hoards of division, doors of admission |
Causing the friction, inscription like the walls of Egyptians |
Paint a portrait like the Lord of the Christians, taint and altered his pigment |
False depictions got us all in a prison |
But it ain’t no God in this system, can’t evolve in conditions |
Where they write me off as being off and left my thoughts in perdition, bitching |
Often would grapple, tackle this road to no progression |
Claiming you atheist but still worship your possessions |
Ground broke with a down stroke and a noun spoke |
And the town folk scrounge for an abound rope |
But they found no amount floats |
Sex trafficking out the Vatican rather than found hope |
Profound smoke from burning oaths you thought they found a new pope? |
Black chemicals signify the simple lies, the masses rally |
Screen shot of a rap blog, saw the image of Alex Crowley |
Amass the tally, I pass it barely, I’m Makaveli |
That’s strong as the purest dope or this rapper from outta Cali |