Lyrics Mars On Life - Clear Soul Forces

Mars On Life

Inhale, exhale
Heartbeat (what, what?)
Trunked up feeling knocking in your speakers
Fab Five, Fab Five
Raise up your hands
Get them higher
I knew you niggas wouldn’t understand it
I took a leap of faith
And broke the record once I landed
The standards being standards
So stand up
I flip words, they handstand (stands up)
Chiroprac-rapping hip-hop is back-cracking
We re-align your spine when we rhyme
I been sitting on the outside
Looking in the room, was knocking on the door
Was there, porter wouldn’t let me through
That’s why I’m locked in this recording booth
That holds the keys to my future
Like a visit to the oracle
Blue vinyl fight to your stereo
Fab Five Wolverines is on the radio
J.Larose, Chris Web is on the radio
Howard King, Ray Jacks on the radio
Work no headphones without Beats
Writing relief, stress on my mental
Like (?), think
I’m a living legend
With a rhyme fetish
Rap on a (?) genetics
And (?) finetics
The new veteran represent
Microphone atletics aesthetics
The first of my kind
Peep (?) of Prime, the pistol
Another accidental blast again
I walk away from an accident dragging like two victims
Me and my rapper friends like pathogens
Moving through your immune system
Abuse rhythm and shed light like two prysms
For starters, I’m crushing rapper’s jawns
With a (?)
That snaps back I’m Henry Rowengartner
A cyborg with some nice form
In an ice storm, cold as fuck
Knock you off your bicycle with an icicle
You don’t want to get into it
(?) assassin after the cyber-initiative
Would you die for your penmanship
Picture this, I’m Jason Bourne
Disarming rappers in front of a liquor store
Putting them in a figure four
Fantastic, fucking elaborate
Prepping to do a backspin
Put this verse in a (?)
Split the mic like a fraction
I’m in a semi-auto (?)
Skimming through black (?)
Rewind, nigga fuck your comment
Put a comma, before I get at your momma
While penetrating the standard
(?) that’s engulfing the local area
Witnessing this hysteria
Hot, my pupils blood shy
With puffy eyelids caughing up blood
(?) that’s how I get when I’m hostile
So keep the (?)
I’m randy (?) as mister Macho
You follow like an apostle
One hundred cadavers hollow
This funkier than a (?)
Making your body rock
When the beats bang
That makes the pebbles level
With the pavement pop
Sawed off pump (?)
Slapping and crack your neck bone
Hating we don’t condone
We’re just?
gigantic raps
Tapping that bubble on her back