| This is hiphop, get your muthafucking hands high!
|
| Get 'em up! |
| Get 'em up!
|
| One’s for the money, y’all, two’s for the show, in fact
|
| Three’s for the loaded gat you hold when you wrote your raps
|
| I ain’t holding back no more, if your flow is wack
|
| I’m flying off the handle like the barrel from a broken bat
|
| Anybody popping slick shit’s getting helicopter lifted
|
| To the top of district hospitals for a doctor visit
|
| 'Bolic's optimistic’s opposite: apocalyptic
|
| Brainstorm making rain drop acidic toxic liquid
|
| I’ll knock you bitches into next week with a haymaker
|
| And straight-razor your face when you land seven days later
|
| I said pray your soul to keep when you go to sleep
|
| But you sold the lease on your own beliefs like Roman priests
|
| You probably told the beast Hip-Hop needs it’s own police
|
| To patrol the streets and shows whenever something dope’s released
|
| But the navy’s total fleet here storming a local beach
|
| Told to breach my home, couldn’t get me out the zone I’ve reached
|
| Make some muthafucking noise, scream like you never do
|
| Let them know we here, punch the muthafucka next to you
|
| Roll something, light it up, guzzle what’s inside your cup
|
| Hold up, wait a minute, I don’t think you hype enough!
|
| Who don’t give a fuck now? |
| Living like they can’t die
|
| I said get your hands high, reach them for the damn sky
|
| People get them up now, you don’t gotta ask why
|
| I said get your hands high!
|
| Verse two, stand by
|
| Store my rhymes cryogenically for an entire century
|
| And even science then’ll be baffled by the chemistry
|
| The rapid rise in energy’s analyzed forensically
|
| To fathom why this natural high’s trapped inside your memory
|
| So why do rappers lie, glamorizing weaponry?
|
| Getting away with murder like the cat who’s driving Kennedy
|
| I’ll have your lives in jeopardy, receiving intravenous fluid
|
| Until the thieves I’m crew with pull the plug from your breathing unit
|
| I peeped the blueprint of your music, every bar and measure
|
| Planting demo charges to tear apart the architecture
|
| My squad marched together through the arctic weather
|
| In the hardest sector and left them marked forever like a Scarlet Letter
|
| Scar a veteran for meddling in our endeavors
|
| So enjoy getting tarred and feathered while your arms are severed
|
| Y’all will never stop this moon out the boonies
|
| Who spits more jewels out than that dude Mouth in Goonies
|
| Pray to god when you go to mass that someone that I know will slash
|
| Your throat with the broken glass from a Corona broke in half
|
| I’m Jehova’s wrath, but worse than the pope in Catholic church
|
| Christening the Antichrist while he’s soaked in afterbirth
|
| Half a verse got you spacing out like Captain Kirk
|
| 'til I throw you back to earth and leave you miles below the grass and dirt
|
| The gat’ll burst at the first cat I face, y’all
|
| And that’s why you shook to respond, like Magic 8 Balls
|
| Saint Paul, the Great Wall, New York is the Norwegians
|
| Fuck what they force-feeding, I’ll upchuck in a board meeting
|
| Four seasons, year-round, spitting that blue magic
|
| And wouldn’t wear down in a triple fat goose jacket
|
| Can pull ratchets like mechanics, I got screws loose
|
| But fuck a deuce-deuce, I’ll drop two nukes through your moon-roof
|
| And it’s fool-proof, so I’ma act a fool like Raul Duke
|
| With two turntables and a mic, that’s my true roots |