| So what’s the hold up?
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| Zoning out in comas, fluffy coke to blow your nose up
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| Losing my composure in a moment smack the pope up
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| Grab the hoe another smoke up
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| Badbonez engineering man-sized low costs
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| A ring-a-roses, pocket full of posies from celebrities in showbiz
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| Anything they sold is owned and everything is coded
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| Plus like Imacs and phone chips
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| Burning skids in all directions like a Tokyo drift
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| , simple thinking, fickle known
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| Questionings to others
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| Unpredictable fuckers
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| Like redneck bump truckers
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| Fucking up all of corruption
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| Morph into flames like spontaneous human combustion
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| There’s no fresh trust
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| Promises that weak MC’s are waking up in cold sweats
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| They yellow sheets from damp and wet dreams of having slow-mo sex
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| Hang with smoke heads like coat pegs
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| Forget a protest we’re gunning for the most
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| Set the blame, rich and wealthy dames
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| Got me repositioning my aim
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| Grey rays ripping their pretty picture out the frame
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| Unobtained literature to gain
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| Claimed they didn’t know my name
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| Until they kissed the shitty stain
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| Fuck your line up
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| Price I’m Indonesian Komodo Saliva
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| Component combined though when I live inside the
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| Lighting up guys that bite butts
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| Ramson Badbonez with a tight clutch
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| Fuck the white stuff
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| «There's a war outside, no man is safe…»
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| «What more can I say…»
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| «Value up quick…»
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| «Hold up.»
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| «Take full aim…»
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| «Rapper in the game…»
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| So what’s the wait for?
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| I make these fake fashionista rappers take a great pause
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| We came to rearrange the gameboard
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| So place your pieces, my feces is
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| They’re preaching their street demons
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| Who eat off the weed dealing
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| But pee when they see beefing
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| Me I seek the pieces
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| Operation Light One
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| Where coppers make your tight lungs tighter
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| And you ignite one so I’m high strung like pylons
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| Buzzing with the capacity to shock a rapper snatching his
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| Lines of high calorie
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| Grindin' like be
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| I’m cooking to the core
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| Cooking bookings for the cause
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| On some full heat
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| Melting a mic into my finger tips
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| See I stink of piff
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| Most of times
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| Swinging through the trees until I broke the vines
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| I got a motor mind
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| Thoughts racing, hold your lines
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| Wars waiting over time, tryna keep my cause
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| On its course and fuck a court appearance, roll 'em right
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| It’s Fingerfood for the open types
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| «Thinking its a hold up…»
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| «Yeah your rap style’s bad enough…» |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Komodo Saliva , by - Ramson Badbonez. Song from the album Hypnodic, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп