| Just mail me your titles now and save the public embarrassment
|
| You never even battled how the fuck are you arrogant?
|
| No wonder why you’re screamin' to the night it seems like no one’s listening
|
| Cause you’re just one tiny beam of light in this whole solar system
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| Your creation is a fallacy to rap
|
| Didn’t calculate your mass before your galaxy collapsed
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| Comin' harder for ya some heartless voyager
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| Star destroyin' soldiers killin' constellations bringin' realness back
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| Yeah, you motherfuckers can’t apologize
|
| On the tables or the mic, you choose how you die
|
| I never came across a rapper that I’m scared of
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| Cause ain’t an emcee in this universe I can’t tear up
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| I’m really iller than anybody, buddy I’ll bloody your body
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| Your cruddy thoughts are probably as soft as silly puddy
|
| I’m in a different dimension when rockin' a drum beat
|
| Not even a star’s gravitational pull can touch me
|
| And that goes for you and whoever you stand in space with
|
| Man you’re wasted, light years behind the standard basics
|
| Face it you ain’t shit in this game
|
| End your career the way it started, with a Big Bang
|
| (Never no super star, I’m more like a planet)
|
| «That's that new Star Destroyer cut I was tellin' you about»
|
| «Dude dude, this shit is tight, dude, this, hey, this beat is dope. |
| Yo
|
| You gonna lemme spit some shit?»
|
| «Yeah»
|
| «I got some shit that would go with that one verse?»
|
| «That one I heard of right?»
|
| «Yeah right here. |
| It’s this one right here.»
|
| Yo, cease with the star gazin'
|
| It’s the two baddest who bring meteoric numbers of crews ravaged
|
| Talent, we do have it, but ya’ll gaseous whitish blue masses? |
| NO
|
| Only pew bastards who’s asses exude gasses
|
| Unstellar your true status
|
| You faggots, get it straight
|
| Dead is the only way you featherweights
|
| May get chances to levitate towards heaven’s gates
|
| Stop buggin', how can the sky be the limit?
|
| When orbitting scrotum and jock rubbin'
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| Crotch tuggin', strokin' and cock huggin'
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| Over me you got nothin'
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| Decipher distance and spot rushin
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| Shot solar hot pluggin
|
| With us you are not fuckin
|
| That’s obvious, stay in a state of disarray
|
| While we color the cosmos with creations they could only wish to make
|
| We trooper soldiers, time it takes you bitter Cub Scouts
|
| To figure us out will make the Sun supernova and Big Dipper rust out
|
| Get the fuck out your fanatical state of fantasy
|
| Ain’t no accident we saturate your world with tragedy
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| Outerspace, your doom zone
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| Comet’s tail chok ya' yolk broke ya
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| Metaphysical footprints near your Milky Way tombstone
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| You’ve shown nothin but reason for us to destruct your feeble productions
|
| Leader’s leavin' elitist medias crushed in
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| Boldly go where no man has gone before
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| Unkillable horde of syllable lords
|
| Born breech bearing balls bigger than body for bodying of bitch boys
|
| Best ever earth and birth bound to umbilical chords
|
| Told we flow how no clan has flowed and more
|
| Bad bro, intergallactic abomination, comp debasin'
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| Monster waitin' to stomp ya face in upon confrontation
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| Fatso with mad flow E&A track slow collabo
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| Attack mode blackhole, chomp ya statement swallow entire constellation |