| Listen to precision *scratching*
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| Listen to pre-ci-ci-ci-cision
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| Listen to precision *scratching*
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| Listen to pre-ci-ci-ci-cision
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| Listen to precision *scratching*
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| Listen to pre-ci-ci-ci-cision
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| Rhyming *scratching* rhyming
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| Y’all sendin' motherfuckas to an early grave
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| Murder men then murder slaves
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| Verbal plays vacant so you herbs behave
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| When I was your age I wasn’t that a rave
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| I was bangin' jackin' spades lacin' page after page
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| At that stage, you rookies would’ve bat at the bat cage
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| With pride up in ya swingin' stance
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| While I was catchin' finger cramps
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| Writin' in a dark room wid swingin' lamps
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| You sing and dance, you won’t step you bringin' ramp shit
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| Ring the bell, I fight you like a horse in a cell
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| Bumpin' this hell toward the rail like a sorcerer’s spell
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| 7L holds cream like a tortoise’s shell
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| Ya organs will swell, click and then you turn into a cell
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| My thought be malice, shine like aurora borealis
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| Thought me how to spit in callous oratory at ya axis
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| I speak my mind like telepathy, burn you like an effigy
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| So you better choose ya weaponry
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| Hook
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| Yo I spit the words of death
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| Curse ya breath, there’s no person left
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| Still can mesh burnin' ya flesh so nothing’s left
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| Of the missin' elements and artificial intelligence
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| The darkside of a bright mind my rhymes designed to
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| Blow ya back in like a rogue assassin or komodo dragon
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| Cloak and dagger know no havin' verbal package
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| With the photographic vocals overlap and overcrackin'
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| Clones attackin', you need to stick to local rappin'
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| Cause I roll wid chicks lookin' dyke bend it over bitch
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| Wid the dopest lips you could ever kiss
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| Holdin' this is close to this, that’ll reconverse on this
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| Which episode a pack of old crazy motorists
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| I change hands like polyist (?) or a solar eclipse
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| Knock you off like a merc you got it, when it’s kicks
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| Women feelin' my tongue, Esoteric spillin' blood
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| Killin' villainous thugs like Daredevil wid a bentley glove
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| Hook
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| Yo I’m David Blaine raisin' Cain meditate and stay the same
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| Specialize in state of brains jeopardize a lame frame
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| Main game flooded daily basis, takin' pages to Israeli paces
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| Verses that I vomit have the traces of the comet Haley chases
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| Alien races wid scaley faces, sayin' damn you laced us
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| Fachist, I blow clouds out the sky
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| Leave rhy-mers surprised when I gouge out their eyes
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| I’m the shaman pawn man, the skull of Tutankam-en embalmin' fluid
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| Runnin' through the veins of the Druid
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| Like a pharoah, who shadows like the grave of a dead pig
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| Covered in red sweat, crab ass rappers guard quicker than Bobafed
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| Or his father Jengo, I might catch 'em like a stitchin' witch
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| Fuck a pigeon bitch I project vocals to catch rep
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| Like Robotech on attack, the god ock is back |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Precision , by - 7L & Esoteric. Song from the album Dangerous Connection, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп