Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Something Wicked This Way Comes, artist - BenefitDate of issue: 31.12.2001
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Something Wicked This Way Comes |
| My microphone has grown out of my wristbone |
| I’ve lost control of my vocal tone, spitting this shit chromed |
| I’m possesed by hip-hop delivering spirit |
| I fear it because my hand is constantly scribbling lyrics |
| I can’t eat, or even sleep in my bed |
| Tormented because a beat will always creep in my head |
| I can’t listen to a drum loop without timing it Can’t hold a conversation without rhyming it I walk down the street and my brain’s known to rattle |
| Because I’m thirsty as hell for a mother fucking battle |
| I have no TV, already broke it in three |
| Because I turn it on to see another whack emcee |
| I have lyrics in my head, they always stop and then go I constantly daydream about rocking a show |
| Write my rhymes all my life as it begins and ends |
| Broke as fuck cause I’m always out purchasing pens |
| I’m the analyst, obsebalist of existance |
| The last dime in the dollar, completing the sentence |
| The ninety other pennies tossed through the wormhole |
| Worthless as the bitch dancing naked on the pole |
| I’ve seen twenty different worlds, at least eight dimensions |
| I’m better than an ameteur, repends the state of pensions |
| Who’s the next worthless soul ready to stand up Thinking they got the Holy Grail but they’re sipping the false cup |
| Lately I’ve been spotting, on the words of the rotton |
| With my looking glass, and hands to the upper class |
| Groups of blinded ones gather at a steeple |
| I label it an eating place for meaningless people |
| Coalitions to hard rocks living without purpose |
| I sarcastically attack with the womens word circus |
| A surface of slippery ice, a dangerous crack |
| In the path of the ones who walk with their minds slacked |
| Verge in the microphone, you begin to panic |
| Because I’ll make the crowd seem the like the Atlantic but your style is frantic |
| It’s so whack the store banned it Had people covering their ears saying I can’t stand it My style is so fly you can’t land it, I bring the supply because people |
| demand it My rhymes stand alone like they were a bandit |
| Three hundred and sixty degees my CD’s outstanded |
| It’s so smooth it feels like it was sanded |
| Figures of speech make me smile like you were uncandid |
| I’ll pass you like you’re a hand-it |
| When I come with rhymes that punch like a fist |
| Taking your microphone so fast cracking the bones in your wrist |
| Seperating you from me like mist |
| Eliminate the competition, by spitting from every dimension mentioned |
| Benching emcees for flenching as I build up tension |
| Clenching the number one spot |
| Leaving your body to corrode and rot, corrode and rot |
| Pass me the mic, I’ll ignite like the birth of a constellation |
| Spit rhymes without hesitation, poetic devestation |
| Hip-hop's my love and recreation |
| Causing me to rise like elevation, syllables slice causing decappitation |
| I hold the mic tight enough for strangulation |
| Getting technical like a capotilist album rhythm is my precision |
| Rhyme angle like pereputal vision |
| Code like red, I drop lines like a clumbsy cokehead |
| Judge like Dredd, countdown till the twelve hour has begun |
| I’m the one, the chosen son, I’m an odyssey like space, 2001 |
| A new day has begun and the weight on my shoulder outweighs a tonne |
| And when I rap rhyme, something always wicked this way comes |