Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Drifter , by - Jon MurdockRelease date: 03.11.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Drifter |
| Jon Murdock! |
| Yo, break this shit down for these motherfuckers, yo |
| Cut you like surgical position with my burst of wisdom |
| I’m the fourth, your first dimension here to curse the system |
| First he kissed him, and second he fucked him |
| And at your favorite rapper, this shit is disgustin' |
| I’m nicer than all these commercial rap rhymers |
| Heath Ledger MCs, Brokeback Mountain climbers |
| A Bentley in a video, a chain and some bitches clubbin' |
| Even though the track is wack, all these kids will love it |
| The shit we rock, the music is ill |
| And the MCs that rhyme, they do it with skill |
| They do it without or they do it with deals |
| Put in the work for years and they do it for real |
| How you feel? |
| Y’all would never know what type of life I lead |
| The way I think, the emotions, all the sights I’ve seen |
| Through the good and bad times, I recite my dreams |
| Never stoppin', steady rockin', through this mic I breathe |
| On this mic, you’s a wack motherfucker that think he nice |
| Made a few beats and say you got a deal with Winky Wright |
| You doing this music, you fluent with acoustics |
| Pulled two strings and Fruity Loop’d it, you stupid |
| I can’t stand a Stan, I can’t stand you, fam |
| Went to New York to see your bitch, now you mans with Cam |
| I’m a leader, you’s a follower, demolish ya |
| Sampled Oliver, now the street’s should acknowledge ya? |
| And Lil Wayne’s the best? |
| (Yea right) I put these lames to rest |
| Blaze your chest, put the money up, pussy, place your bets |
| Hip-Hop's dead as a door nail, I’m more ill |
| Immune to wack MCs, we at war still |
| 'Cause y’all would never know what type of life I lead |
| The way I think, the emotions, all the sights I’ve seen |
| Through the good and bad times, I recite my dreams |
| Never stoppin', steady rockin', through this mic I breathe |
| Breathe ether, the beat heat seeker, supreme speaker |
| Ceremony Master of rhymes, here to teach ya |
| A backpack of back smack you wack rappers |
| From now and here after, my presence creates a fear factor |
| When you see me, you know not to battle me |
| My lyrical overdose gives you nightmares from shallow sleep |
| Beneath the surface of gimmicks is my image |
| A vision that lasts three to five minutes and I’m in it |
| A 1080p signal is not an equal visual |
| I’m a million light years away, and that’s the minimal |
| With a collage of adjectives and synonyms |
| I make the crowds wave back and forth like a pendulum |
| 'Cause y’all would never know what type of life I lead |
| The way I think, the emotions, all the sights I’ve seen |
| Through the good and bad times, I recite my dreams |
| Never stoppin', steady rockin', through this mic I breathe |
| Motherfuckers, yeah, Jon Murdock |
| Vanderslice on the motherfucking boards |
| All you wack MCs need to back the fuck up |
| This my time, bitch motherfuckers |
| You fucking commercial rap faggots |
| Ain’t nothing fucking with this |
| Flying Dutchmen, motherfuckers |
| Never know, never know, never know |