Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Crunch , by - Moka Only. Release date: 04.01.2010
Song language: English
Crunch |
| I’m the durable mammal, Moka Only the complete abnormality |
| Fatality maker, don’t you sleep |
| Why? |
| It’s detrimental that you set your mental clock right |
| So you can catch the prime example of those who rock right |
| The top tight, my mic’s made of alabaster |
| Castin' shadows the size of Mount Shasta before I smash ya |
| I promise to be the bombest, I gotta say that |
| You want to die? |
| Well you can be accommodated |
| To be honest, you soft like hummus |
| To be on another plateau you gotta rap pro or become sawdust |
| I’ll Husqvarna? |
| that ass with no exception |
| Been ill since my conception, I come for the collection |
| Same ol' cash respectin' bitches I can’t front yo |
| Bizzy D went back to the hotel an' spelled his name in dough |
| I’m hella pro, a rappers work is never done |
| I like necks, I think I’m 'bout to suck one |
| I put my pressure on the corners and cave the box in |
| There’s homicide on my breath and rhyme circles of sin |
| See if I don’t re-animate the meat grinders grain |
| In the 8 wing where gray veins protrude from my gray rings |
| My collection of strange things include: |
| A barreling delivery like a Winchester and a pool full of crude |
| Oil in my turmoil ridden block of ill rhythm |
| Where cracker cockroaches talk about class division |
| See I’m not stuck in a strucked out function |
| I adapt to the place I hear the bass bumpin' |
| Keep every rhyme different, that’s a sign of affection |
| Keep a bag of Buc Fifties in my cabinet of medicine |
| Make sure the door’s locked and your deadbolt’s fastened |
| Your worst nightmare that shares no compassion |
| Acid flashbacks get hacked up into fractions |
| Sergeant’s road kill, still missing in action |
| An unaffectionate date, I’m section 8 |
| Let’s play, you be the bride of death and decay |
| Do you stay awake at night thinking of the things you should worry about? |
| Follow this blood trail and hurdle through the forest of doubt, til I’m out |
| In the wide open plains, hopin' to maintain |
| The same yield, but the field’s littered with corpses |
| Death is my departure, til then I’m explosive |
| An overdose of death, spare me no thrill |
| I’m rare, bare me no ill will, I’m there |
| The last man standing, never call a truce |
| Apologize? |
| Nah, strength needs no excuse |