Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Attack , by - Esoteric. Song from the album Machete Mode, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 25.11.2013
Record label: Man Bites Dog
Song language: English
Attack |
| I didn’t come for the case, I came for your boss |
| I came to Sheamus, I came for him |
| I never left, don’t you see? |
| I attack, I attack |
| Counteract, cardiac, cardiac |
| I attack, I attack |
| Counteract, cardiac, cardiac, cardiac |
| We represent if you let ‘em |
| Wouldn’t bite if you pet him, it’s just the way that they bred him |
| You don’t want to test him |
| Afrikan Bambaata or bless ‘em the dog n daughter or dead ‘em |
| I’m John Lennon combined with Spidey n' Venom |
| Meaning if the beat ill, I’ma downtown swinger lethal |
| Real lyricist for your people |
| He affair when he launch, could launch a row in the Bronx |
| I’m Biggie in the booth this is studio we haunts |
| They call you big leash, you always had the bite but ain’t got my appetite |
| I’d google raps if I was looking for a parasite |
| Or better yet the Eiffel Tower at the Paris site |
| I threw with butchers in ninety degree fahrenheit |
| But peep it I keep it a hundred when I grab the mic |
| I keepin' it ten when I’m at the light |
| I let the beats bang let my nuts hang |
| Dead to rapper’s life, motherfucker |
| Check out a show coming applaud, I make fun of your squad |
| Turn around and raise money for dogs |
| I hear voices in my head but it’s you some and god |
| You authentic like Nigerian Prince fraud |
| Crush the same beef so my gauls I can’t speak |
| I got a lot of shit on my plate like all-terrain chiefs |
| All remain discreet, on your block, empty out |
| Optimus Phryme’s the only time you pull a semi out |
| Is there really any doubt as to who be the best? |
| E to S, lethal yes, creature double feature fest |
| Papered up like teacher’s desk, so we don’t |
| Need to test you like the panic button |
| When we rhymin' you should be depressed |
| Your rap money got a flat tummy eatin' less |
| Fuck your hood and street address I’ll spit it east to west |
| For the drama for the beef like a piranha teeth |
| But I’m for the kids like every time Michelle Obama speaks |
| Embarass rappers like they fucking up live |
| On Shade 45 spittin' freestyles they should have memorized |
| Strike before the chorus I write with no thesaurus |
| You, riddle mics like raising stripes on a Ford Taurus, you bore us |
| Get outta here, walk away, walk away, just get outta here |