Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song BPSWR , by - Clear Soul Forces. Song from the album BPSWR, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 23.02.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Fat Beats
Song language: English
BPSWR |
| And it sound so nice |
| Hip hop you the love of my life |
| We 'bout to take it to the, to the (to the top) |
| One time for the boom bap |
| A combination backpackin' sub woofer rap |
| And it sound so nice |
| Hip hop you the love of my life |
| We 'bout to take it to the, to the (to the top) |
| One time for the boom bap |
| A combination backpackin' sub woofer rap |
| The game’s been lukewarm for so long |
| No hot songs or cold flows |
| Hell can heat heaven |
| Angels on my side heat rise |
| I eat wings spit right back wash beverage |
| Refreshin' the flow like it |
| The wordplay is words wit' |
| enemy I know |
| You gotta feel my energy |
| More than a shit together |
| Letter by letter describing |
| Compare me to mad scientist |
| Whippin' his wrist for dollar signs |
| Tough times for minds |
| When these dollars get consolidated |
| Feel some kinda way shit |
| Caught up in the matrix |
| Dodging all of that make ships, spits, |
| Gon' fit right under we’ll put you on the edge of a forklift |
| Hot (shhh) on the rise |
| But a nigga keep his balance |
| Like acrobatics above a pool of nonsensical madness like |
| Itinerary for the visionary |
| Sit down with all we got is us in turn mercenary |
| Master assassin got it down to a letter |
| Spit a verse and I’m putting chords on an |
| The livest one I’ll be the master |
| Play, lyrical roulette with a Gatling gun |
| While they say that they rap for fun and I blast ya' |
| The pieces equivalent to filament |
| That’s microscopic |
| Fucking chopping up the science of mathematics |
| Impostors backwards like this lecture |
| Fuck rappers who next to |
| They say what, I say who |
| All of these Dr. Seuss’s |
| Looking stupid copycatting your raps |
| Be mother goose’s my shit is foolish |
| You just in that shanty picking up tulips |
| In the field blow like, dice |
| your battlefield, I never yield |
| When it come to the h2o I got my gills, now I’m skilled |
| You drowning, I’m back to the strokin' |
| A dead rapper ocean, your bitch I’m chokin' |
| She think it’s provokin', esophagus closin' |
| And now I’m ending my night |
| She getting my pipe |
| Lay me down like at the end of the night |
| Between the sheets make |
| Contagious spreading feeling the right |
| Love sick, spitting up a scribe |
| I administer hard beats |
| That adrenaline stick with him in life |
| It never cease remain living inside |
| Keep both eyes on the sparrow |
| Else my legs quiver when I shoot a bow and arrow |
| Aim it at your ear lobes |
| Spread love like bread crumbs |
| So watch your blindside |
| Why you rocking it’s the love of my life |
| Like stars to the broken famous |
| Signing autographs murder stages |
| I have another stamp on my passport before the day ends |
| And that goes for the next day and the following arrangements |
| Still broader than that plain shit |
| You selling out shows and still wondering where the change went |
| You ain’t slept in three days overseas ways |
| I hold the mic in my hand |
| Like Robocop out of the side of his leg |
| I blast your hair off |
| Tyson on the mic with a knife |
| Slice your ear off, and peel off |
| In a go-cart drinking a Smirnoff |
| One time for the boom bap |
| A combination backpackin' sub woofer rap |
| And it sound so nice |
| Hip hop you the love of my life |
| We 'bout to take it to the, to the (to the top) |
| One time for the boom bap |
| A combination backpackin' sub woofer rap |
| And it sound so nice |
| Hip hop you the love of my life |
| We 'bout to take it to the, to the (to the top) |
| One time for the boom bap |
| A combination backpackin' sub woofer rap |