Lyrics Prelude To Coaches - Oliver Hart

Prelude To Coaches

«Now that I’m working out and conversing-»
(Now that I’m working out…)
«Macintosh»
The drugs
Say no to me
I broke emcees with
Poetry blowing holes in me
When I broke yo teeth
I go off this beacon
(What?)
(Hey baby, baby)
What, what, what?!
(Come here, come here!)
(It's that kid from Blaze Battle)
What do you want?
What do you want, man?
What the fuck do you want, man?
I don’t give a damn who-
(Listen!)
Man
You gon' have me here listening to this shit, man?
(Hell yeah!)
Turn this shit off man
Deleting you, deleting them, deleting men
I’m eating them, defeating them
Leave them weaklings
Been up in the weekend
I be serving them
Words is dumb cause I urge them-
(Turn that shit? Turn that shit back!)
Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about
Oh yeah, that’s my jam
(Turn that shit back! It’s Eyedea!)
Hey what are you doing?
(I'm saying, do you know who this is?)
Fuck that shit I’m up outta here
(Bye)
Emcees try to step up
My dick is what their lips touch
Bitch, what?
They want to try to step to this
I recommend that they couldn’t fuck with me
If they was down with an exorcist
Because I got demons and they got semen
Guaranteed beating me, hah, shit
I guarantee they was just dreaming
Keeping that shit tight
Every weekend speaking on this motherfucking mic
I keep that shit tight, locked like a door knob
Emcees try to step, I’m a rich cat they’re a poor slob
Don’t even try to step to this
I recommend that
When they ask their friends that
I just blast their ends in glass and shatter their chin
I’m badder on the patterns from Saturn and back
The raps is just gathering and fathoming
No imagination and I grab reputation
On the microphone
I grab the microphone and they be pacing slow
Breaking those, taking notes throw it often
Emcees try to step to me
They know they flowing soft
When we get through the jam
Emcees know you the man, please flow
I be grabbing the mic and making it stop
Like a bus depot
We blow so ill though
When I grab the microphone I stick like a dildo
When rip with the kill flow
So kid try to step
Terrell grab the microphone and take all their reps!
Who the sickest?
Who the quickest?
Who can lick this?
Who’s the sickest?
Who’s the quickest?
Who can lick this?
Yo my nigga Carnage, Carnage
Carnage, Carnage never talking that garbage
Emcees I be scrubbing the tarnish
Off of their ass quick
Melting like plastic;
quite sarcastic
When I grab the microphone emcees be
All smelling like fucking ass dick and
Any other thing that be smelling kinda funky
The rhyming junkie guaranteed to blast
Every emcee swinging like a monkey
In the motherfucking jungle I
Swung your lyrical style way off into another orbit
Yes I’m morbid;
more shit
Cause when I be kicking
Emcees I be ripping and
Thinking of taking you
And you wouldn’t even be stepping up to
These lyrical flows that I be using
Swiftly ripping the mic
Flipping the track
Never the one to be coming wack
Always the one to be smacking 'em
On their motherfucking back
When they be fucking wack
Think that they can hang with the way
That I burn a reflection
Don’t y’all wanna be wise
Til I get an erection
My selection
Symbolizing
Nothing but
Pure perfection
I take them out with verbal aggression
That’s what I be using
Emcees I be abusing with the rhymes I’m choosing
Guaranteed to never be losing a motherfucking battle
Emcees should
Go get a saddle and ride off try to get with the team
Gotta realize that my
Motherfucking rhymes are never soft
I be the lyrical boss when it comes to flipping that fast shit
Emcees running up to the microphone
And guaranteed to get their fucking ass kicked
No shopping rocks on the block
Cocking Glocks;
better not
Hopping spots when it’s hot
When I’m dropping props on the spot
My rock is not gonna stop
Shocking watts til you flock
Dropping crops til you’re fucked
To watch you flock to the jock
You talk a lot of shit that you can’t back up
And I’m not nervous cause
You’re an insecure bitch that acts tough
The the the the
The fact is e g a n r a c
Carries the weight of
Vocabulary heavy enough to leave your back
Crushed!
Drop before depressed chest
Make heart dark
Stomach plummet
Lyric rivers spleen
Scream knees screes
Find wine in
Back crack
Smash that nap sack
Filled with wack raps
Act black
Niggaro what’s in your flow
Abrasive
When I’m packing the heat
You’re attracting defeat
If your rapping is weak
Knuckles and feet’ll be
Cracking your teeth
When I’m properly
Interacting with beats
Hit the sack and the meat
Chin strong D.C.M
Of king b exhibits an
Ability to crumble
When rumble
Humble still
Downgrade your battle cry
To a feminine mumble
You might fumble away
Stumble
With great parallel to that of
Hyena in the jungle
Mic stand then lodged in bunghole
Plus your rhyme recital booed
Situation avoidable
If I’m just getting the respect
That I’m entitled to
You motherfuckers need to give up the props
And take notes
Today’s lesson:
If your lyrics suck
You ain’t clear to bust
Fear this cut
Better get used to us 'cause the only
Place we’re going from here is up