| Who are you talking to right now?
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| You clearly don’t know who you’re talking to
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| So let me clue you in. I am not in danger
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| I am the danger!
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| Couldn’t work with my bare hands but the Roscoe’s loaded
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| And I got it for cheap mayne in the hood Costco’s open
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| No coupons accepted just the loot and the bread sticks
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| Smooth the wet in your section boy from Tucson to Texas
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| Take a sip of this oil and watch it simmer and boil
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| Decompose you send you to the Devil have him employ you
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| Recruit some soldiers, train ‘em to be armed with a weapon
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| Conditioned to be calm and collected when it’s time for Armageddon
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| My luggage rack bent like a crater,(with what)
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| Lizard skin with tons of greenbacks inside all of that alligator
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| If James Bond was me, he’d be way more G
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| Trade in that Aston Martin for a chrome Bugatti
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| Go mach three blast the Tragedy Khadafi
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| thug cop a bird flock these doves hah
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| Natural born money getter like one of the Gotti guys
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| Conceited bastard, chip on my shoulder like Johnny Five (oh!)
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| It’s the Machete Mode hit 'em and I’ll bet he fold
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| You can find me with the deadliest of weapons sold
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| AOTP to the death every sentence gold
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| Call a bomb squad lethal when the pen explode
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| Bars are fatal I bash your skull into Play-Doh
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| I’m authentic like a Mako, you faker than Sharknado
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| Ian Ziering MCs interfering when I slaughter verses
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| Get jelly like Bobby bottle service haul them off in hearses
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| The flow is gruesome but deadly I’d rather choose epilepsy
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| Than check for a track of yours because that shit is trash of course
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| It’s so bad G I’d rather someone gagged me with a shake weight
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| Then date rape me before I peep what you laced lately
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| I don’t care what you say’s crazy, that could be lamer than Wayne Brady
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| I’m insane like smack your baby, fuck you pay me
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| Gimme the loot gimme the loot, but you ain’t got the dough you always float
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| You like my son’s Legos you were always broke y’all a joke
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| Honestly I’d rather jam out to some Hall and Oates
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| Or the last shit Madonna wrote or hear the son of a prostitute who tell mama
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| jokes
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| Cause listen to your non-dope moronic quotes
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| You’re a rat, call your folks I leave your girl’s pajamas soaked
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| Cut out the racket… you ratchet… I'll beat you ragged
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| I’m a rabid dungeon dragon that’s droolin' battery acid
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| I’m ravenous, Ap is savage my raps are the most blasphemous
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| Black magic or Black Sabbath singin' bible passages
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| Pass the shotty, I smash atoms and body bag 'em
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| It’s either that, or I’m lettin bionic Rotti’s at 'em
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| The most radical, rappers get out ya riot gear
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| They’re lightin' fires and burnin bodies when I appear
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| Rappers get attracted like Dracula to a trachea
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| Tragic when hemophiliacs travel through Transylvania
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| Transporter beams set to the wrong coordinates
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| I’ll teleport ya body organs out ya body, orbiting…
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| Your abdomen like ornaments torturing poor misfortunate
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| Formerly living opponents… you rappers are rodents
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| I have components for global thermo nuclear war
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| Inside my brain you know my name, bitch…*shall we play a game*
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| Aiming like Soviets in the 80's Diplomats in old Mercedes
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| Selection of several ladies with sections of cities
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| Locked… Iron Curtain for certain squirtin' my sperm
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| Dick as big as a Dune worm in virgins
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| Jesus, what was I thinking?
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| You clearly don’t know who you’re talking to
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| So let me clue you in. I am not in danger
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| I am the danger!
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| A guy opens his door and gets shot and you think that of me?
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| No. I am the one who knocks! |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Danger (feat. Celph Titled, Apathy & Vinnie Paz), artist - Esoteric. Album song Machete Mode, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп