Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Rice Torture, artist - The Four Owls. Album song Natural Order, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 11.02.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: High Focus
Song language: English
Rice Torture |
Dang, this here I found a new beginning |
Teaching the to make my some fresh linen |
Still stripling, head spinning like a cobra with his teeth missing |
I came drinking what they’re sipping |
You can get the Hateorade, the bishop piss |
Cuz no-one listens with all of that green light low omissions |
Here’s a new edition, something no hesitations |
All you see is flashin' lights like interrogations |
Bad presentation, every word’s a revelation |
Don’t hold samples, hold and leave reservation |
Fuck with us like fornication |
But on a bus like an urchin on its penetration |
Treat a sample like a mommy’s preservation |
You neva had heart, you’re just racing, need a machine to put the pace in |
Neva know who’s got yo back, like a mason |
Stick the tracks like the dog just booed his legging |
Burn our connections inna yo infection |
Cannibal’s collections from paranoid reflections |
Took classes they would see in a dream |
Woke up and found the knowledge in apology stream |
I’m an untrained animal, a Bill Adana of the manual |
But keep droppin' it like my hands are full |
Something’s watchin', but is it followin'? |
Case on the table, is it my name to honor it? |
But keep maneuverin', I keep it smoother than the average type hooligan |
Didn’t need but elude my pen |
Elude my friends, that’s my high focus |
Called a doctor, this shit is sick, betta grow the dosage |
Comatosed kids when the firm kicks back |
Girls pop 'em out so fast, they get tit lash |
Too many crip rack, bring Sit Rick back |
We’ll sing rest in peace to the artists that switch rats |
My profession’s mic murdering |
Approach from all angles, I’m climbin' out of all furnishings |
See the cops, then I’m swervin' 'em |
Free pork chops, nothing but neck I’m servin' em |
The queens said I’m burning them |
I’m livin' proof you get yo dreams if you work for 'em |
I lost memories I’ve found, I’m writing verse fo' em |
Pissy gift now a curse when I is turbulent |
When lies occur, protect yo chest like yo sternum does |
Sloppy with the flow, yeah, you know it’s so permanent |
Operculate where the stench of pain permeates |
My words are straight out of the curves of a girl I date |
Four hours, stay mwoffed (?!), like a burglar’s face |
Flying so high, we found rap at the pearly gates |
Now with a sound that gives the opposite a breakdown |
Real recognize real, the skill will take the fakes out |
Life with unleashed piper tongue teets |
Tie yo tongue around yo neck, man, I’m climbin' up beats |
The mountaneer, now it’s clear, a new cycle |
Pedaling fast, then messing with bars, survival |
Terror to the eyeballs, effective to the brain |
Blood sweat and tears smear over the terrain |
It’s the part less traveled, the front is unraveling |
The fabric disappears, now it’s just the hollow mannequins |
Standing in the wilderness, bewildered by the silence |
Unforgivin' pain hit 'em deep like a sniper |
Take yo best shot, fuck 'em up when I get on mobile |
Like the virus on yo desktop |
I’m pickin' words like the best quotes |
Stress not while you see being sent off |
The rap got bigger and I’m still singin' F the critics |
Been down for years and I’m still gettin' betta with it |
Biatch! |