| Frequency 120 Megahertz, the tower issues red alert
|
| Emergency we’ve never heard a better verse
|
| Clouds swell preggers take cover when the heavens burst
|
| .either that or arms open let it quench the thirst
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| (FP — ASM)
|
| Dr. Lecter with the extra girth
|
| Rank a wurst from best to worst
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| Frankfurter, Rinds, Brat, Curry, hurry rent a hearse
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| Mending words like surgical wordsmiths
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| Vertical spurt then return to the gentle dirt
|
| (Green — ASM)
|
| Sent to earth first single mission is to lift the curse and
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| Shift the malediction once inflicted on Egyptian acquisitions
|
| . |
| craftsman of factual fiction
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| Masterful vision immaculate diction
|
| (FP — ASM)
|
| Tactical precision paired with discipline
|
| Blowing up like nitroglycerin, switch to 10 when I left the pen
|
| Tell the homies and the next of kin
|
| There’s a Party up at Jay’s with a theme and it’s Mexican
|
| Party up at Jay’s
|
| Party up at Jay’s theme’s Mexican
|
| Party up at Jay’s
|
| Tell your next of kin.
|
| (Green — ASM)
|
| Astonishing agility riddle me how these kids display the synergy
|
| Typically only seen in synchronicity of swimming teams
|
| …Roast a pork belly with the fennel seeds got
|
| More styles than there’s feet upon a millipede
|
| (FP — ASM)
|
| The craft is ancient like the byzantine, script pristine
|
| Stencil clean, seen, must be P and Mr. Green
|
| In an out, twinkle feet, stealthy like a ninja team
|
| Any bwoy test get injested by the lit machine
|
| (Green — ASM)
|
| Groove Sessions. |
| Huge spectrum of shrewd lessons
|
| Tear the crude cretins a new rectum
|
| Awake from slumber thunder rages now torrentially
|
| This shit is fucking dope the understatement of the century
|
| (FP — ASM)
|
| Who’s stepping? |
| Juice pressing 'til blue resin
|
| Exudes from whoever’s the news bearer, the Kookaburra
|
| Send a raven with abusive letters, dreck
|
| Excrement to put it mildly at best, yes
|
| Party up at Jay’s
|
| Party up at Jay’s theme’s Mexican
|
| Party up at Jay’s
|
| Tell your next of kin.
|
| (Illaman)
|
| Couple bragaholics with hot spit like volcano
|
| Bare rago flows to bend these pussys up like play doh
|
| My hand will swing the pen like sword its illaman with insane tones
|
| More raps than kebab shops they got on Green Lanes bro
|
| I’ll murk your gal and have her missing call her Jane Doe
|
| 10 years with my band I was a devil with a halo
|
| It’s the Xbox expert holding a game while he his change clothes
|
| And if it ain’t a dig to your chin then blood your holding 8 blows
|
| A kick wearing my timbs, some rotten fruit at your range rove
|
| Fat like I got some bombs underneath my raincoat blowing up the gaff like a
|
| terrorist in a pay phone
|
| Its london city’s finest all up in Marseille yo
|
| Insane like David Blaine after he take 8 tokes
|
| Tell your chick a joke and get some neck I make the brain blow
|
| The CMR fam, light em up with flames
|
| Heading to the party up at J’s, so what you saying yo
|
| Party up at Jay’s
|
| Party up at Jay’s theme’s Mexican
|
| Party up at Jay’s
|
| Tell your next of kin. |