| Don’t worship me, I ain’t the Lord
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| I’m a flaming sword with vocal cords that can strangle a St. Bernard
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| I make sure when it rains it pours
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| Start language wars until the fluid in your brain is forced to stain the floors
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| My art is bold yet it’s sort of cold
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| Bite your face like crocodiles doing at the waterhole
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| And once your camp is raided, bodies are laminated
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| Maybe I’ll kiss your ring once your hand is amputated
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| There’s morphine in my bar schemes
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| I slept for fourteen seconds and had twenty-five eleven part dreams
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| I got styles in all mixtures
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| Bury you in the sheet rock behind family pictures in the wall fixtures
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| The rap stat attack minds
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| And black your vital signs until your flatline flat-lines
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| K-Rino the great highness teaching at the finest school where students get
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| murdered for making a A-minus
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| When I swing every emcee ducks
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| I’m the opposite of a menage a trois ‘cause I don’t give three f*cks
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| Greatness cannot be rushed
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| When you breathe what I concede you heave of battery acid reflux
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| I’m lancing you like a panther’s tooth
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| Catch you in your dancing suit, slice you into chunks and sell cans of you
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| My pens are like poisonous syringes
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| I go on war binges and launch missiles like bars from my jaw hinges
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| Words I mention tend to dismember appendages
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| Enter his temple then spit 'til his memory hemorrhages
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| And when these rappers call, I’ma nap ‘em all
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| And need a paragraph-sniffing cadaver dog to find your dead catalog
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| I’m flaming men if they ever mention my name again
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| I claim I been through twenty thousand pens like Chamberlain
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| Don’t believe I’m a trip, come and see a few clips
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| I rip unreadable scripts that make vehicles flip
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| I bring to fruition atom-splitting cataclysms
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| The anachronism with backwards vision and mad animal mannerisms
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| Candles glisten as phantoms listen
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| I channel out a random mission, dismantling this planet systems
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| My monograph’s a clad madness
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| That smash physical masses to bacterial fragments
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| My written enigmas are unsolvable
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| I swept the crowd off their feet once they saw me sweep your feet off of you
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| As for your flow, half a million folks heard the
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| So no records were sold, meaning you went negative gold
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| I was dropping new styles in school child
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| By 22, I was removing and puttin' ‘em on a frozen food aisle
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| I got a in my head, infrared pencil lead
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| What I said in November left December dead
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| Me and my black-suited ruthless pals
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| Boost morale by spewing paragraphs that hit like root canals |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Strangle Hold , by - K Rino. Song from the album 80 Minute Eternity, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп