Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Man Only Fears, artist - Gravediggaz. Album song Nightmare in A-Minor, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 24.12.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Sun-Star
Song language: English
Man Only Fears |
A fresh alley, is like Death Valley |
Strangers are met fouly like heads with a bounty |
I Invade your county, state, town, or borough |
Rap steelo, thorough, home on the furlo |
Dolo, solo, singular, similar to none, with the black Polo |
Outfit, house bitch you dumb |
Deaf, blind, can’t rip a rhyme |
MC’s lines is empty, I’m unfriendly |
The Art of War horror-core slaughter more cats than a Chinese restaraunt |
My rhyme peaks is the art on all you triflin' me, like the Eiffel |
MC’s, I’m rightful in these lyrical bullets in the form of a bullet |
In your back, you’re wack, fuck your click, they just over-react |
I ain’t feelin' your track when I come fully stacked for combat |
I break mates, human bein’s, shapes, and Shakespeare’s of Europeans |
Fuckin' sewer semen, Apache renegades with hand grenades |
Drop bombs, invade men through their hearin' aids |
And fully extend the Gravedigga welcome |
To Hell, son, the Devil got you in a full nelson |
Stride for stride, I carry my Gravedigga shield with pride |
If left to the doctors I’d have already died |
But I’m back, darker than a pitch-black night |
With a track and a mic |
Man Only Fears what he knows he should not |
Man Only Fears what he knows he should not |
(Yo niggas that know not can’t get, don’t got) |
Let me dictate what I wrote, PaperMate |
ShoGun, I use my words to Assason-ate |
Murder is all I see here, so I say what I see |
When you step in front of me, my thoughts is explosive energy |
Call the bomb squad, I’m a threat to the cassette deck |
Might spit a cartridge, to rip through your cartalidge |
Danny Godsmith, who the fuck you think masterminded this? |
Brain-storm, Red Dawn, war pawn, let the gun show 'em |
We could happily leave the convo', I got an arsenal |
I’d Dress to Kill, Swingin' Swords Where I Rest At |
It’s Blood for Blood in this Shoot Out |
Clash of the Titans, Universal Soldiers, Wake the fuck Up! |
Black ambiance, I levitate in a motherfuckin' seance |
Upon a black young child with the crayon |
I prayed on intellectuals in exceptional venacular |
Vintage cosmetic venacular callisthetics |
Genetic contraband, study of the graphed tin man |
Wisdom concurrent, run determinded through event sentence of death |
Last chance, close the curtain, go inhale the vision of detail |
Realistic accuracy backed by the faculty |
The Gods, I use the guns and Glocks to lock the monopoly |
Armed, the bomb, the harness, released under my own recognizance |
Gatekeep', what? |
You know how it motherfuckin' be |
G-O-D, the path consists of numerous tricks |
But niggas thoughts are restricted |
Rather be crammed in little districts |
Chop the element, a household name in every residence |
I be the King sparkin', runnin' niggas like drill sergeants |
Of course no remorse, deterent fear radiates coherent |
Rather bust your own than eliminate the appearance |
Cover us but On the Strength my niggas double up |
Here to engage, left in disarray |
Torn, devestated, from the fierce brigade |
Man Only Fears, Many Only Fears |
Niggas that know not can’t get, don’t got (x4) |