Lyrics Under Pressure - Guesswhyld, El Da Sensei

Under Pressure

Yo, yo, yo, check it I make the past dash for the post to most indeed
My dough speeds approve feed, what I believe top seed
I write scrolls like Judei Sensei, my tongue real sharp
On the target shit, that your mind can’t shield
Most can’t feel, the appeal I set upon the mass
Niggaz speakin ?, one point seven grams of vocal hash
I splash like Hank and Bank flows in many waters
Shamed your game even before the fourth quarter
My order is brief, I chant meaning for demeanor
with my cleaner outlook, my moves advancin like a rook
Took, time to design, but I incline, intertwine my shit upon your mind, check, for my warnin signs cause
I’m a hazardous graduate of the schools of fatness
My inner flows like, water in a cactus
But y’all can’t see the science in this — I’m like
the day you bought you first LP, from Kane or Blastmaster Kris
Twist trees, the ordinary nig would never toke
Well over here we catch a tree but overseas we catch a boat
I wrote these degrees for the backpacks, travellin on foot
The low Guess sag, Walkman and a notebook
and Goddesses with their ear to the norm
Cause the new generation got this whole shit wrong.
Who’s the fool?
My tools only used to bring elaborate
shit on ?, activist servin my addicts (why?)
Fuck up those who dance by chance a ch&be fly
Smack that ass that go by and she won’t ask me why
I’m tokin never gun totin I’m potent with the word spoken
Leak the speak nigga, pass that, you’re chokin
With a minimum dose, toast for taste, for your liking in advance
Enhance thoughts so, comp take a chance
In my world, only the true stand in my circumfrence
They’re bumpin shit, with lyrics so much they’re mad abundence
I’m like the first Dutch of your day, Sensai
I’m rallyin carry the load, as my pen explode
My tech shows no weakness, behold my uniqueness
Daily Rap News messenger, Under Pressure
I raise the stakes on fakes like chips to, a gambler
You’re catchin my phrase like, I passed to Wes Chandler
My style not the R&B code, but the true category
Concoting flows in Dexter’s Laboratory
Switching up styles like teams of Robert Horry
It’ll take me days to tell my tales of fame and glory
Been down long roads leadin through, the Swiss Alps
where every chick in town got blonde hair in they scalp
What I’m about, is still refreshin your mind, guys are blind
cause what you find is the shit, is the downfall of rapkind
Askin the same question, all the time whassup with yo’shit?
Yo sit back and focus, beginners notice:
my speech is never an impediment
Always a step of it to show I have intelligence
So, MC El Da Sensei, O-U-T
For the nine-eight season we be, out.