Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Appearing Live, artist - The Dynospectrum.
Date of issue: 12.10.1998
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Appearing Live |
Introducing, Gene Poole, Sept Seven, Pat Juba, & General Woundwart |
Here on stage tonight, in the spotlight |
For your fuckin' crew and your bitch too |
So rock this shit |
Just cause you put weed on a stick does that mean it’s tight |
When you stand on the edge of the stage does that make you fly? |
Stars in the sky are only reflection’s awesome source |
And I am an MC from the Hip Hop protection force |
Independently endorsed the cause |
When I’m through busting these verses your hole will be my personal hostess |
First and foremost, I could give a fuck where your coast is |
I’m different than niggas in my district under hypnosis |
What my crew composes is not made for poseurs |
It’s too dangerous for those who’s cornier than they toes is |
I rub noses in styles that get nastier |
Than four piles of shit on your bathroom floor with blood on the door |
I got more than fat tunes I read plots for the afternoon |
Which lasts through the evening or until your ass is leavin' |
Gosh believe eyes they don’t deceive you |
When you see me on stage MC’in' you in the moshpit bleedin' |
I spend half o' my time readin' rhymes feedin' my mind |
The other half is spent writin' so I’m constantly recitin' |
Like blind twisted and sprite, I fix your lemon of a melon |
Be cool, I don’t want to become a three times seven |
Appearing live on the set, right in front of you |
Secure your mind, Dynospec, that’s how we come to you |
Effects box tweaks when it hits the tones get next |
Physical matter of speak, officially known as Sept |
Stomp through the land of the bleak where my opponents rest |
All seven days they come weak kickin' that bogus text |
No longer content, we’re just be headin' to monsters |
Now I’m intent on lettin' 'em see where their flaws are |
Acknowledge the scent, taste what fate has to offer |
Make 'em repent, and then damage their posture |
Policin' ain’t easy, but it needs to be done |
The policy is simply to submit or be shunned |
Follow me to the surface, the Spec fills the lungs |
Colony is established, your descent has begun |
Now piece this together and label this the error |
Sep Sev Seven Two, that’s MC code for terror |
Mariniatin' never celebratin' the weather |
Breakin' measures as they come cause the drums in my head thump forever |
The fraudulent fall to dismemberment in September |
Clever sentiments, camoflauge, hidden agenda |
Uncloud the vision and unclog the hearing |
The poster says it perfect, Dynospectrum now appearing |
I take focus on the energy and the action of your soul |
Danger zone, far beyond control, polar cap, cold solar facts fall |
Deep into my zone for soul savior, knowledge is flavor |
The ex-slave reach a delivery, infinite memory |
Released styles I possess fresh from birth beyond puberty, forced liberty |
Got me in the center thinkin' raw flamboyant |
Extravagant bombs be detonatin' while destroyin' |
Hit you in the side of your mind, sight for blind |
Thinkin' in my mind 'till it’s time to get mine |
Generatin' loot, damagin' bank with street flank |
Conquerin' Europe like cannibal elephant tanks I think |
I think, like Tutankhamen, well I’ll be sunnin' |
At pitch black dark, my queen’s asleep, I’ll still be rhyming |
Radical atoms is what I split, it do because I’m equipped |
Beyond the state of rip your gullet’s split |
Direct impact, like pedestrian collision literal |
Rugged like ACG, not immaterial, in the stereo |
West coast with west imperial, check yourself |
You don’t hear me though, niggas fear me though |
If you wanna save your life hit the emergency exits |
Cause the General’s got the front doors covered and intercepted |
Windows are blocked off, the cock’s off, suck 'em suckas |
You can mind to do under, but can never be the instructor |
Control musical motion like Beethoven |
I leave your whole metropolitan in the need for remodelin' |
I’m sly like a moccasin, abolishin' any MC |
Japanese to Somalian if you rivalin' |
The land where my cottages and villages can be seen |
The sun beams off my rim de-clench me |
You try your hardest to convince me that you’re worthy of an MC |
But all you seem to do when you rhyme is just offend me |
The flimsy spines, let them be held in confinement |
Them sucks couldn’t bust if they stuck a needle to hymen |
They rhymin' calculator, ready to fell fakers |
And the respiratory system, his shit’s a story, don’t listen |
Just an organ with skins, twenty men with dividends |
The only difference that it is, that he does it with synonyms |
It’s just the livin' in this world that we gotta do our time on |
So you can get your crime on, but I’m gon' keep the mind strong |
Thank you thank you thank you, get the fuck out! |
get the fuck out! |
That’s right, niggas is tight, I should’ve known, that’s exactly it |