| Look at my dog tag! |
| You’ll see D. Bull
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| A heavy hitter from the midlands like Led Zep have reformed
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| I don’t need the Marine Corps, I’m lethal
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| From 3,000 miles off the eastern seaboard
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| Colder than Trebor mints, Nee Naw
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| K People step away from the keyboard
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| I wanna see your heads bopping see saw
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| Up and down so speedy you’re reeling from the G-force
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| Give me a vehicle, a BMD or Super Hornet
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| Troops are falling uniform superiors are fearful
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| I’m really tearful
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| Saline solution slides from my eyes at the same time I’m shooting
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| So maybe I just should let a Beretta do the talking
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| 'Cos after all, you’re a dead man walking
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| I walk in pull out my M1014 and end all these porkies
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| And tall stories, with the ease of a nuclear attack
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| I shout «look behind you» and shoot you in the back
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| Suited up with flakjackets, flashbanging
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| Leaving claymores in your path, need I say more?
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| This is the Battlefield
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| Where if you lack the skill
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| Then your cap’ll peel back
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| Like an apple peel, twat
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| In the Battlefield
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| If you lack the skill
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| Then your cap’ll peel
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| Like an apple peel, so grab the steel
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| You’re a Super Soaker, I’m a SuperCobra
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| Souping up my guns 'till I become a supernova
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| I’ll take you to the moon and over like a lunar rover
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| I got a new limo and so, are you the chauffeur?
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| I’m a human Yoda, no, a new Jehovah
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| I do my flows with the devotion of a Jew to Kosher
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| So I shoot the charcuter and do him over
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| I’ll do to you’ve what you seen me do to SOPA
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| I’ll straight flush you like a full suit in poker
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| And mutilate you leaving you like you’re doing yoga
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| Resume control, assume the role of Henry «Black» Blackburn
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| I’m coming for your guts like a freaking flatworm
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| Soon as your back’s turned, Blackburn’ll blast murder fast
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| I’m packing more heat than a massive thermostat
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| I’ve got a certain knack to turn the gas and hurl a match
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| So if you’d prefer lack a burn, then stand further back
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| And slap bureaucrats that I haven’t heard the facts
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| I’m rapping more original than a fricking Werther’s Pack
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| I mix hardcore, nerdcore commercial rap
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| And stay on top of the beef like a burger bap
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| I’m a soldier, but not the sort to traverse Iraq
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| I’ll come first in any match on 30 racks of server stacks
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| I serve a purpose that you might find confusing
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| Dicing right through the digital illusion of the
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| Battlefield
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| Where if you lack the skill
|
| Then your cap’ll peel back
|
| Like an apple peel, twat
|
| In the Battlefield
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| If you lack the skill
|
| Then your cap’ll peel
|
| Like an apple peel, so grab the steel |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Battlefield , by - Dan Bull. Song from the album Generation Gaming II, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп