Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Anti Convo, artist - Ramson Badbonez. Album song Hypnodic, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 15.06.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: High Focus
Song language: English
Anti Convo |
| Guiding the turbo hyper drive cycle |
| And diving through wormholes into dirt roads |
| church clothes, burning internal inferno |
| I chose this molted mould and multiple sclerosis |
| Cold hypnosis, pungent and potent corrosive vagitosis |
| Ravaging weddings like fat brides in leather tights |
| Reconcile, memorise on flash drives, essential terabyte |
| Mega wild and desensitised |
| Like hype, like mice on crack |
| Guys object to pedophiles with death by ferret bites |
| Gentrifying by global social experiments |
| Settlements stole by delegates |
| Spoken beckoned with local impediments |
| Go accepting the graveyard challenge |
| And play out the Braveheart by the most vanishing radar scanning |
| Snatch a rapper out their (SKIRTS!) |
| And expose 'em for what they’re (WORTH!) |
| Hurling a sword from out the dirt |
| To murk all pervs for lurking on my turf |
| Nocturnal radical and astral projections |
| No burning candles or incense give birth to natural inception |
| Swift receptor, splitting milliseconds into sections |
| Threatened MC’s try and wet from the middle of by-section |
| Celibrate rhymers hollering like swallow-izzle |
| Cus they can’t spit, retarded lethargic markets who hit them (TAR PITS!) |
| Karate body blows, or comatose host for a hollow ghost |
| Emotionless vocal |
| Crash the arrows from your long bow agenda |
| And vendetta anti-convo |
| Flying through on Marty’s hoverboard, legs spread, middle fingers raised |
| Back from the future to shoot at imbeciles up in this game |
| M (DOT!) A (DOT!) B, obnoxious is the name |
| A unit of lunatics moving through because this kid’s deranged (LIKE!) |
| Sit with the fam, twisting rizlas and envisioning grands |
| While laying cuts like Edward, no scissors in hand |
| While the stamina of amateurs is limited |
| Man, my drive is high, there’s a difference in rap |
| I break it down like a dealer with a brick of the sniff into grams |
| Fitting it ham, what they talk about is next to the limitation |
| Literally spam, my vision is spanned, its so wide with both eyes |
| God can’t see the mission and plans |
| And as a kid my exam results were under C’s |
| But I stay afloat with the sober scene that’s under siege |
| Especially writers biting like Tyson or a bunch of fleas |
| They say they holding two straps with two clips like dungarees (PLEASE!) |
| I’ll demonstrate what a murder is when I murder this (ON BEATS!) |
| I’m hard bodies as a turtle is (HEAT!) |
| Coming hotter than furnaces (MY WEED IS GREEN!) |
| Smothered in blotches of those purple bits |
| Cus I stay high, looking over my city like Ally Pally |
| With more bars than Ibiza, Aiya Napa or Faliraki |
| And its so shabby, family Manny to Bristol |
| Cus the buses that smoking and as I crack him on crystal |
| Smack a rapper out their (SKIRTS!) |
| And expose 'em for what he’s WORTH!) |
| Draw a sword from out the dirt |
| To murk a twerp for stepping on my turf |