Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Truly Cinematic , by - Cas MetahRelease date: 09.11.2015
Song language: English
Truly Cinematic |
| Higher Definition I max in, so I’m Maximus Decimus Meridius gladiator |
| Cut the cross fader while I fly like aviators |
| So save the favors neighbors I’m Eric Davis in outfields |
| I’m out still ‘til the witching hour’s over |
| Drunken monk, sober, slapping a king cobra |
| Mic skills the coldest, words the magnum opus |
| Swag over substance is spontaneous combustion |
| So picture that on a Instamatic Kodak |
| My Erick Sermon tells the vermin Get the Bozack |
| Hedonistic but the grace is my statistic |
| Redemption in the script so the movie’s realistic |
| Verse 2 (Lyriz) |
| I’m taking emcees like I’m Ra’s al Ghul |
| I’m a menace to society to your Moulin Rouge |
| I’m confused, do you really want to fuel these fumes |
| I’ll Chernobyl any rapper don’t confuse us two |
| I’m a different breed, look at me, don’t be fooled |
| By the smiles and the daps ‘cause I give those too |
| As well ass whippings, ass kissing Stan’s get schooled |
| By my vast vocabulary and the presence I exude |
| I’m an alien to those who say and don’t do who |
| Say they got metals but ain’t built to build nations |
| I’m consisting of patience and I’ll wait you out |
| ‘til the day I catch you slipping, better watch your mouth |
| Verse 3 (Mouf Warren) |
| ‘Cause he might sneak up from behind and pop your ego with that nine |
| And leave you leaking on the floor then flee the scence of the crime |
| Tim Burton with the flow, depict the future before it’s time |
| Return to the scene, laugh at your wack ass for sneak dissing my shine |
| Peep it, listen, you ain’t a genius like I |
| Have your people thinking wow, such as beautiful mind |
| ‘Cause every word’s like a scene for the grind |
| But this ain’t BET |
| I’m shooting from a photographic memory |
| We all rhyme I ask myself why a million times for sure |
| And I think it’s probably ‘cause she won’t let you skeet in hers |
| All hundred million of you jerkies acting like you dope |
| Caught snitching on yourself, flip and hope you drop the soap |
| Verse 4 (RationaL) |
| Flow just like Nemo, don’t slow for no people |
| Marshall in 8 Mile, you don’t know what I been through |
| On a dark night (knight) on the edge like Ledger popping pills |
| Legends never die, rest in power Robin Will |
| Insomniac searching for the artifacts, your art is wack |
| They say lyrically I’m like the Art of War plus the Art of Rap |
| All these cats swinging off my King Kong Kim Jong ding dong |
| Play a rapper like a game of ping-pong |
| Sounds of music without Julie Andrews is tragic |
| I’m super bad like I’m Jonah, for movie scripts I’m an addict |
| I stay dope, rappers play roles, I never act |
| Instead I sent this twelve to Cas, Rash Truly Cinematic |
| Verse 5 (Wonder Brown) |
| So many looking for a return of the king and murder the scene |
| Maybe y’all should be searching for Scream part thirty-three and a third version |
| The Naked Gun to your conspiracy theory third person |
| Replacing redrum for some purple drink |
| Tip your tin cup acting majestic |
| But choose poorly and watch faces melt after the exits |
| Some say bring the noise, I say kill the drama like any rapper trying to act, |
| another passing for Mastodon |
| More like Comic-Con |
| Like y’all ain’t camouflage |
| Watching y’all’s like swimming in a dead pool with a Cannon on |
| Yeah, get your banner on, might as well the way you were after the green |
| Yet you still wonder why the back draft is a stab to the spleen |
| Verse 6 (ReFlex the Architect) |
| Put your Skype chat versus my IMAX imagery |
| Your Times New Roman to my spray can calligraphy |
| White flag before I’m tagged, or bad luck |
| There’s no shield from my fury, nothing left for I to patch up |
| Scorched earth rhetoric, they all gasp |
| Like I stepped into the room in a Day of the Dead skull mask |
| Weighed up the comp, mentally set the timer |
| Then bodied the whole scene like this was The Equalizer |
| Your best plans get moth balled |
| 'cause no one’s left to get behind them, that’s a one man trust fall |
| So roll credits once these hurses filled then |
| I’m slow mo' walking out the burning building, yeah |
| Verse 7 (Cas Metah) |
| If rapping was gymnastics, you simple cats are still doing spotted back flips |
| on a padded mattress |
| If emceeing was acrobatics, you could see Cas trapeze like my hands were made |
| of magnets |
| What I script, truly cinematic |
| So Scorsese, plus the score crazy |
| SoulSeize got the horns blazing |
| Your boy downloaded beats on SoundClick and just claiming that he made them |
| If Hip-Hop was taken by sex slave tradesmen |
| I am Liam Neeson here to kill all their agents |
| Spaz out take the back route |
| Avoiding directors |
| Choice of selections |
| I’m poised for perfection |
| They poison the essence |
| With usual suspects |
| Bruisers and rough necks |
| Who want to come test? |
| You could get done next |
| Soon as the sun sets |
| A jedi on the death star, I hunt flesh |
| Putting fathers in their coffins, often called a marksman |
| Dropping bodies so long probably ought to start graveyard shift |
| They want me dead like Danny Green but don’t know how to make me bleed |
| Maybe ‘cause I’m Dracula without the fangs for teeth |