
Date of issue: 15.03.2016
Song language: English
Slayed |
I declare war on stupidity |
We’re dropping beats on a lyrical fluidity |
An attack with pace and ferocity |
Built on bass and velocity |
I’m taking you and your crew on a mission |
We’re cutting rhymes with digital precision |
Your music’s messed-up, old, outta shape and fat |
So rewind, punch me in and lay it down to DAT |
I declare war on the fakers |
The piss-takers and the sucker money-makers |
I reflect and elect to reject |
Well, what the fuck did you expect |
I’m hyped and I’m psyched |
And I was put here to wreck the mic so |
I grab a fistful of plastic |
Not the real deal |
No steel but it feels fantastic |
We’ll bring the house down |
We got the stack up, the beats are backed-up |
We’ll bring the house down |
Big boombastic beats will make you dizzy |
War on them all and all that they stand for |
So step back 'cos I’m a fucking handful |
Tearing up the beats that we rocked on |
And if you look into my eyes I’m getting locked-on |
Now you see I’m stoked-up |
You think I’m coked up |
But you know I’m fired up |
Not because I’m wired up |
You see we’re spreading rhymes like a virus |
But I’m just playing with the rhythms that reside inside us |
We’ll bring the house down |
We got the stack up, the beats are backed-up |
We’ll bring the house down |
Big boombastic beats are getting busy |