| It’s crazy in here
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| We take you now to the satellite
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| You want action, storm the studio
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| (Hit the Studio)
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| Crush, kill, mutilate, spill
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| Blood, thud, the limp body is a thug
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| Flood scarlet, protoplasmic cells, flow, slow
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| With no halo, dragon in hell
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| Stay low key, praise, elohims
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| Melodies, play hellish strength, M-O-G
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| I see radios through the M-I-C when I speak to ya
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| When I cease, When I leave, through the exit
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| The question is can I be, Smoother
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| Choose you manoeuvre to Buddah
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| Be beautiful sooner first
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| Get in tune with the Universe
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| Versatility add activity (?)
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| Captivity, energy through seafood
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| Gotta be the prelude to what we do kid
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| My blueprint makes you rent tuxedo’s
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| Taggin' & raggin' & baggin', zig-zaggin'
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| And back in the diagonal crush of bun b-lo
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| Trust me though, you fuckin' with the lux regal
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| What mud evil can clutch the untouched eagle?
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| See you at the summit, you plummet more
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| While I soar through the unexplored
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| Toured where the sun goes warm
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| Paramour, I perform through a storm
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| My radioactive uniform leaves you deformed
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| Unify man, woman and little guy
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| Visualize, I can design rhymes that symbolize
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| Rhymes that intertwine with time lines for 99 lifetimes
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| That unwind to find the minds of mankind to shine
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| Define simile
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| Simulate the template of the best made verse
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| Innuate to emulate words
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| Don’t denigrate the trade, create birth
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| The unification of race as that verse was clashin'
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| Oppression in murderous fashion
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| Bread new plants, virtuous craftsmen
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| The seamen’s in the sand, you see 'em from the air
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| Fu Manchu pants had a verbal assassin
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| I settle all things through a megaphone
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| I spit transmit land split sanchez
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| Another grip by lif, thats M-R to the L-I
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| Leave niggaas near far for rippin' tongues soft
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| Searchin' for the center of ya frame, just copy
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| Got no blood, your arteries left soft
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| Hot of the presses, yeses, the EPs’ll bless us
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| Strifes and stresses, various points infiltrate us
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| Laps collapse cells within the cause of contrast
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| First, worst, anything reacts for tracks
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| All your personal facts 'till ya backtrack
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| And guess your illiterate who gets stomped and laughed at
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| So primitive, (?) a figurative
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| Phrase from back in the days I use to the little kids
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| Amplest mental midgets, with ten digits
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| Opposable thumb don’t mean you can get dumb
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| Officially its only my mind that limits me
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| And lately I’ve been havin' visions of infinity
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| On the horizon, I’m a prizin' when my tales be survivin'
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| With me sur-rhymin', some murderers were left silent
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| Those who spoke choked on hope, threw up
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| So much pressure in their cell 'till their dome blew up
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| I’m helpin' the hell boy, the piles compose my frame
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| And they’ll even diss a pain through range
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| Train the ladder, my flows compose the louder
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| For you to ripple down 'till you hit the ground
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| Check my synopsis, ripped by cyclops’s
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| Autopsy deemed trite trite from lobby’s
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| Sloppy in some cases, your flow fold by four places
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| Mold to the globe’s oasis
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| History’s a myth to me, the current is electricity
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| An ankle that’ll start and dangle there
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| Physically swivel maybe talk to T La Rock
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| So give up and put down the Mic
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| And admit that you’re soft and get DONE |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song 2266 Cambridge , by - Cut Chemist. Song from the album The Audience's Listening (DMD Album), in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп