Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Treatment, artist - Ohmega Watts. Album song The Find, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 26.09.2005
Record label: Ubiquity
Song language: English
The Treatment |
I got a cure |
I got a pure way of speaking to the people on tour |
I got a little truth if you’re simply unsure |
I can fit it to your mind’s contour 'til your spine wants more |
I’m fine on the floor, but I’d rather stand |
Rather hand what I can to child, woman, and man |
I’d rather build a fan base slow |
Rather teach you, I reach with a grand grade show |
I’ll give it all I got and I need none back |
I’ll spit it 'til it’s hot and all I need’s one track |
I’ll give it 'cause it’s been given to me, I’ll give it cuz I’m s’posed to |
Give it to you free, don’t matter if I know you |
Love gotta show through, me and my whole crew |
Fill your bank account better than some dough do |
Cities that I blow through go cold crush |
Those that I touch gotta feel a slow rush |
This is a treatment, a method which takes time to master |
Stylistic shapes and form, out of the norm |
Big Rec, Braille, and Manchild bringing it on |
Armed forces forced to forfeit against the linguistic swordsman |
Crack a cookie for a fortune, biting my style is forbidden |
Wisdom contain, in chambers, locked in my mentality |
How I kill the beat with skills elite is an unsolved mystery |
Solved, by the detective, inspecting the scene with keen eyes |
You write rhymes with green eyes, I write to free minds |
In neon signs, easily noticed, among the chaos and madness |
You paperweight, plastic, never gonna be classic |
Class is in session, I cipher with freestyle methods |
That paint the wall better then your pen sketches, catch this |
Sales pitch that Braille rips, microphones immensely |
If I blow they’ll probably call me, the next Elvis Presley |
Press me on CDs and Wax, tapes are obsolete like your style is |
Your style is obsolete cause you have none |
I scatter mine, climb the ladder, continue to grow |
Your performance ain’t live, you’re just putting on a show |
I’m showing and proving, shaking and moving, the medication is soothing |
Rocking often, dropping wattage, to unclog the blockage to your heart |
That’s the target that we’re aimed at, the truth hurts |
That’s how we bring the pain and the treatment on the same track |
This is a treatment, a method which takes time to master |
Stylistic shapes and form, out of the norm |
Big Rec, Braille, and Manchild bringing it on |
This is a treatment, pay attention to the lesson at hand |
Grand or a million couldn’t buy these stats |
Yeah, you writing exact, now we bringing it back |
I wreck shop by nature, direct shots, I? |
you |
Direct spots, behavior inappropriate for label on microphones |
I major in mastering the vision, giving 'em spirit limitless |
To rhythm I’m indigenous |
My stimulus is impetus impeding all the impotent |
They who force the ignorance ignite, I do diminish men |
On mics I might just finish them |
Proper treatment of the culture’s missing, intimidation |
Can’t fit in when witnessing, this African American |
Guy and he’s warrior, breaking through corridors |
Of the fallacyville who ain’t listening |
Sticking in the fickle with the tickle four |
Passage, I frustrate the fake and jacks, the art of rap I’m taking back |
Flow ambidextrous, left, right, back into the jab |
Testing this to get you left, right back into the lab |
A lesson in emceeing, wrecking style, vomit, spots |
Sparking the conclusion of a riot like Ohmega Watts |
This is a treatment, a method which takes time to master |
Stylistic shapes and form, out of the norm |
Big Rec, Braille, and Manchild bringing it on |
This is a treatment, pay attention to the lesson at hand |
Grand or a million couldn’t buy these stats |
Yeah, you writing exact, now we bringing it back |