Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Enigma Class, artist - K Rino. Album song Makin’ Enemies, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 16.09.2015
Record label: SoSouth
Song language: English
Enigma Class |
The oracles back storing a stack of historical facts |
In a portable pack for you mortals to jack |
Still absorbing attacks from these insubordinate wacks |
After recording my acts I’mma fast forward it back |
My mental forces react and have intercourse with the track |
My pen’ll torture you black cause of many sources you lack |
I orbit galactical stratospheres morphing to bats |
My tenor voice can impact and leave Finnish porcelain cracked |
I’m not a pessimist or a Methodist, I’m guessing the best |
Description of my true essence is a heavily dreaded exorcist |
The question of second is a genetic risk so I’m catching this retched tricks |
slipping like necklaces on a headless chick |
I go from soul to soul and I roll as far as the ocean go |
Froze enough testosterone overload to throw a stove |
I control this globe but on my old abode the flowing mode |
Is so imposed that K-Rino was the lowest on the totem pole |
Plus my soldiers know when I’m throwing bows I cause my own broken nose |
Rope-a-dope and shoulder roll, I do both of those |
These hopeless so-and-so's need to know their roles |
I won’t disclose the untold total number of flows that my folder holds |
I never Cadillac, matter of fact, I’m so careless that a snake was mad cause I |
snatched him and wouldn’t give his rattle back |
Choke you out and shake you like a soda pop, do a photo op |
And elbow the top of you corona’s hood till the motor drops |
The elite strategist, have a seat as I eat with the scavengers |
While I speak and defeat your complete battle list |
People retreat faster than master mathematicians freak calculus |
Little bastards, you ain’t a star, you an asterisk |
Copy this cause your style is impoverish, the popular novelist |
The pen I’m jotting with is the size of an obelisk |
Emerge ripping, gifted with earth-splitting, curb-lifting |
Wordsmithing, get hurt for disturbing my third vision |
These Merth Griffin-looking, perch tripping, burst them |
And let the black hearse from the church get em for being on my turf slipping |
Then give em the worst whipping you’ll ever witness through any search engine |
Just for twisting and bringing that purse with him |
I stand accused for scandalously handling tools |
I shoot at your granny shoes and make her do dancing moves that Hammer use |
I recommend you say I’m in the most clever 10 fellows that ever been and when |
they grin, I’ma spin them to where forever ends |
I kept them in my sights with a special lens and they never slept again |
I’m stepping in a sweater made out of leopard skin |
Styles thrust a million miles up when I get riled up |
And leave the alphabet in a twenty-six letter pile up |
Enigmatic classes are drafted |
As I practice doing gymnastics back flips in the oncoming traffic |
Practically undistracted by cars crashing and flying at me in batches somehow I |
happen to leave with no scratches |
The Darth Vader suit wearing heart-taser |
Don’t try to spar with K, choose an inlay in a burning car safer |
Chase you a hundred and four acres |
Every song I make is wrote with a black chalking marker on dark paper |
The underwater great white shark racer |
Partaker in war capers, truck park sniffing exhaust vapors |
The odds are hardly working your favor |
As I elevate my verse over my head, so just call me the bar raiser |