Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Wreckoning, artist - Latyrx.
Date of issue: 21.06.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
The Wreckoning |
Look bitch |
You know I’m comin' tight |
So you can switch them hips from left to right |
All night and won’t nobody give a shit |
If you were sittin' |
I might ask you to stand so you can take a load |
Off your mind |
Cause the lyrics you kicked were so butt, your brain |
It must be synonymous |
With your behind in the time and you know your rhymin' |
Sucked black |
That’s why I still can’t figure out why the fuck |
He was all on my nut sac |
He was droolin' on the tool and who are you foolin' |
Tryin' to act so cool and |
When it comes to the duelin' |
Pull up a stool and we can begin the schoolin' |
Ooohin and Ahhhin |
Really don’t matter as long as the rapper |
They know who’s shit is phatter |
And who should be beggin' the pardon |
For the disaster as I blast you into |
Anti-matter make you scream out uncle |
As I punk you with the funk |
Watch you buckle like a punk will |
Another chump killed |
As I chuckle pumpin' steel through the steel |
So that I can steal the show |
The bunk had no appeal |
Meaning that I don’t feel the whack |
EVEN when you be feeling that |
No matter how slow you go |
You still got no-THING to say |
When skills are softer than clay matter |
C’mon man, that ain’t where the cash is |
You musta thought that pretty ass shit was gon' make |
Some dough on the strength of those promo pictures |
Ho |
Blow me down |
I gets down |
That even if we go just one more round |
And I’m from the 'O' |
Challenging you in your own goddam town |
And I know the homies gon' clown |
When they hear the profound thoughts and |
Experiences applied from my strife to the |
End of your life on this mic |
The years run off by the hour |
The aspirations FLEE with the YEARS |
As they get devoured with time |
Eventually you will age and collapse |
What good are your raps if your |
Synapses can’t fire |
The rapid rhymin' and tactics |
That I can flash with |
Automatically blastin' back and |
Cappin' and laughin' at all of this whack |
Material that you brought |
Devoid of substance lacking |
Action between word and thought and |
Perhaps it’s best for e’rybody |
If we just cut short |
Silence |
You itch you lust |
Your breath is taken |
When you awaken |
In the state of the shock |
Thoughts of ex-communication |
And the implications of that situation |
Racin' through your floggin' stopped up |
Noggin' as you’re massagin' |
You’re jarred |
What’s that you saw |
You try rememberin' but it’s foggier than |
Fisherman’s wharf |
At six in the mornin' |
Through the gloom of dawn |
Your doom is doomin' like the |
Moon you know when you’ll be due |
And you’ll die and soon |
And when you die |
Your heart stops |
The brain is TECHNICALLY ALIVE |
For three or four minutes |
Digesting the curse for the next 24 hours |
Give or take a smidgen |
Blood remains viable for several hours and |
Settles down once the body’s downside is |
Darker and you will mottle |
The grip of rigor mortise clenches it’s fist |
And two to six hours |
Relinquishes |
Two to three days later by this time |
The stomach is bloated with gaseous |
Fumes consumin' will blow shit up fo' sho' |
Oh by the way |
The flesh decomposes fast |
Veins and skin turn |
Blue, purple, green and black |
Nose and softer tissue turns to a |
Jelly consistency thicker than Jell-O |
Cornea of the eyes are no longer clear |
Sickly jaundiced yellow |
When you see and it softens |
Eyes they melt in their sockets |
Watch the skin pull away |
From the gum-line leavin' no lips |
So what’s left and |
A wicked grin |
Bacteria thrive nightcrawlers fill |
No morrow only hunger |
Maggots arrived and now’s devourin' |
Decayed and sourin' |
But hey |
Really though |
Why even trip |
It ain’t |
Only the physical in which |
Your consciousness exists |
And in the end |
Forensic details are about as important |
As the gear your sportin' |
So why even resist |
Ya trick |
You should desist and listen |
To the mix your missin' |
With the kicks that’s hittin' |
In the midst of the mist |
Into which your slippin' |
The lights start to dim |
And the lesson of infection |
You’re witnessin' is the wreckoning |
Winded old and you’ll POP |
You cease to exist |
Terror in your eyes |
And a smile on your lips |
When you hear the remix |
You cease to exist |
Terror in your eyes |
And a smile on your lips |
When your heart lights up |
You cease to exist |
Terror in your eyes |
And a smile on your lips |
When you hear the lyrics |
You cease to exist |
Terror in your eyes |
And a smile on your lips |