Lyrics How Many - Linguistics

How Many

My perfect design is destined to shine with certain ryhmes
I’ve got a thousand lines for a thousand times
I’ll spit, I’ll ring your fight club and appear
No contest, I’m an emcee possessed
Return with the undead hollow-head, still flowin'
My mouth starts foaming, raise aromas for Biblical quoting
When I’m holding the mic to the chamber, I tailor with lyrical razors
Like a traitor, the black raider
Never seen like a vapor
I’m a savior, answer to your prayers
In this game we can battle for names or chains
Pinpoint when I aim, I’m pure like 'cain
I’ll shake your frame and tilt it
Unbreakable like God built it, with his children
I’m a fine tuned engine, hitting vixens, like a villain
Through horse-powered visions of car collisions
'till the street turns crimson
My mind just sickens from writing writtens'
I’m too cold I wear mittens, for cats I’m eating kittens
When shitting on symphonies
My verses have you craving like nicotine, instantly
It’s Entity
The poltergeist haunt you overnight
Leave you pulverized by way of vocal homicide
Don’t trip, I’m qualified like a physician to keep you hooked
Like addiction, the mouth magician in position
— Kasper
So, How many flows we gotta spit, spit
How many, how many shows we gotta rip, rip
How many, how many doors we gotta kick down for you to
Get down and lay down
See you don’t want it but if you insist
You’re gonna get it, we gonna give it
Don’t get it twisted
This is not just a spot you fit in
Listen this is our year and you’re not winning
Verse 2- IQ
I dont pretend to benefit from people who condemn this shit
Or even those defending it, this is demented shit
So keep your lips cemented bitch
Hip-Hop is getting boring so I had to reinvent it, independent
Did I mention it’s affecting all directions
I’m a verbal sniper ripe beyond detection
Picking you off like an interception
Flossing and flexing across the perfection
With thoughts of finesse and a lot of affection
For this Hip-Hop profession, no question
Use discresion, this can get you locked up for possession
Whatever your perception, we keep it fresh and later
We’ll serve you hot shit, like a Mexican waiter
I’m expecting the haters to assemble in full-force
But they’ll be full of remorse, it’s run it’s full course
It’s a cruel sort-of game, I don’t take 'no' for an answer
Go ahead and sit down, you better hope I can stand ya
Flow-expander, I’ll slam ya', «Hand of…»
You’ll get snapped like I’m holding a camera
Santa couldn’t even get you on the nice list, that’s priceless
My advice is remove your ice I got a license to kill
Ill beats, it’s chilly, try to remain warm
Prepare for better weather 'cause I’m about to brainstorm
Word, game, form, a name’s born, it’s the fellowship
Intelligence Records rebellious just for the hell of it
Verse 3 — Kasper
Nobody’s worthy on the track with Kasper, ask Rawkus
I crush 'em and leave 'em on crutches
I’m like roulette to Russians
They say I’m too rugged, I say I’m too ill
For you to ever comprehend defending true skill
And by the end my friend you will
'Cause once I’m done killing this verse it’s you I’ma kill
Forget how you feel
I’ve spent too many years, and shed too many tears
Faced too many fears for you to interfere
Hear me?
I’m not going anywhere
Except to the top, even if it cost me all that I got
Everything I worked hard for was all for this
This is my calling and I’m not calling it quits, BITCH
You better listen when I say submit
Cause I can make you flip and wish you never started this shit
Hip-Hop is what I represent
I got it gridlocked from here to where the bridge stops
Even the critics admit the kids hot
Fuck a wristwatch, fuck a big deal
Fuck what you think, dog, I’ma be real
I don’t want the bitches, give me the recognition
Give me what I deserve and you can keep the riches
I just want to be heard then we can call it even
Until then I guess it’s hunting season
I’ll see ya' when I see ya'
Or if I’m dead and gone, I’ll live on
Breathing my legacy through the song