Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Exoskeleton, artist - Jake PalumboDate of issue: 28.09.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Exoskeleton |
| Deep from the depths of the dirt, I’m a demon |
| Terrorize your nightmares, bitch while you dreaming |
| J-U-Double-X, you motherf***ers next |
| Suplex, n***a, break your motherf****ng neck |
| Murder-One case-beater, walk out of court laughing |
| Lead shower your corpse in a blood-bathing |
| Vampire, nocturnal beast with it |
| Murder rate increasing, wack rapper deceasing |
| You fragile, I’m wild with that mad style |
| Been a bad seed, Juxx was a bad child |
| My enemies die slow, it’s torture |
| 3rd degree burns on your body when I scorch ya |
| Sunblock, Ong Bak, elbow to forehead |
| Double back, reload, empty out more lead |
| You duck, dive, dip when I’m dumping |
| N****s fronting, got that shotgun pumping |
| HOOK: |
| I storm through your fortress with the force of an elephant |
| There’s not a b**** bone in my Exoskeleton |
| Two puffs of petro, my brains turn to gelatin |
| Grind 9 to 9, the city is all mine |
| If I die tomorrow, or they throw me in cuffs |
| I will not back down to a couple of local tuffs |
| So no, we won’t hang around to hear your metaphors |
| Get the f**k back, Jack |
| Stand clear of the closing doors |
| VERSE 2 — Jake Palumbo |
| Never walk with the sheep, I’m avenging the herd |
| You expecting Dawson’s Creek? |
| This Revenge Of The Nerd |
| Before Netflix & Chill, it was Blockbuster Nights |
| I used to date a White Russian up in Killa Crown Heights |
| Mix a White Russian out of breast milk & Nesquik |
| Mix a hit record on an SSL desk, quick |
| I’m Destro, you some Cobra Commanders |
| My snare drums get frequently mistaken for hammers |
| Beats By Palumbo, Thorazine to your Thorax |
| Fleetwood Mac, I cut your cocaine with Borax |
| Dr. Seuss flows, getting shows for 3 or 4 racks |
| Poet laureate for the groundlings like the Lorax |
| Send my mail to Gravesend, Bucktown |
| When my grey-haired uncle plays with guns |
| You should Duck Down |
| Ruste, Smif-N-Wessun in the SpaceLAB, what now? |
| Touch down, take the money & run, POW! |
| (REPEAT HOOK) |
| VERSE 3 — Tek of Smif-N-Wessun: |
| P***y h* wanna test I, must be ready to die |
| You’re f**king with the Prince of the Stuy |
| I’m just another great from the 718 |
| It’s the silverback, outfit all BAPE |
| I point fingers & bodies drop |
| Leg, chest, head shots |
| Come thru any block |
| Let the Mac Milli rock |
| I remember days when I was at the Days Inn |
| Bagging up, tryna make a G before a day’s end |
| I never spoke that |
| N***a where the smoke at? |
| (Where the smoke at?) |
| 40-Calli on my waist, don’t provoke Tek |
| I told the banker that I got that |
| Shoot that light s***, n***a threw a 5 and I threw 6 |
| Ohhhhhh… |
| Diadora’s killed the game that’s for certain |
| Curtains, waves so thick that you can surf in |
| You see my n***as, them my n***as for life |
| Don’t get yours cut short |
| Rest in Peace Sean Price |
| Smoke… |
| (REPEAT HOOK) |