| You can’t trust a rhyme
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| Take a young rapper’s head from his mustard spine
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| See’m hanging on the ledge wonder’n what’s the line
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| Need a «Q» ain’t nobody said cut this time
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| I see through it like the bullet hitting Custer’s mind
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| Beat the truth out a bully leave a busted eye
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| Like I was McFly try to cut the pie
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| Break a tooth on the crust kid lose your bicuspid
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| I’m out the trunk and all jewels are trusted
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| You out to lunch and your fools are rusted
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| You a tool a husk who must choose a ruler
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| Who you trust the new or old schooler knew the rules
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| Were made by those who only use the laws
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| To get paid off those ruled applause
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| So if the rebel and renegade must get paid off rap
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| Hm, marinate on that
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| This that hardcore, that real
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| It’s that medication that heals
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| I make that ghetto music they feel
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| I got that alternate for that pill
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| They want that
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| You got alot of belief in his stanza to become the answer
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| The antidote in a man’s hands demands
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| A little more than a couple of lines on this beat
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| Nice watch, you get it from that speech?
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| Find your teacher, the poet, the preacher
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| Take notes when the ticket is sold for this feature
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| The prophet who done profited a fortune
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| He’s pro life on his own life’s abortion
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| Highly competitive, morally relevant, benevolent
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| But negative when he clocks out
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| Beware when he taps out
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| The choke hold, count below four
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| For no dough? |
| He ain’t feeling it no more
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| Cut the ribbon but cut the check
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| Nurse, can a man make medicine out of a sick verse?
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| Beats, rhymes, and life, but life first
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| My mic it sounds nice but it might just hurt ya
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| This that hardcore, that real
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| It’s that medication that heals
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| I make that ghetto music they feel
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| I got that alternate for that pill
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| They want that
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| I’ma laugh at the face they brand
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| To take another lap in the race they planned
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| A villain in a mask, a leash on a lamb
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| To keep that relevant truth from a man
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| This fella got a wired heart
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| A night in dark, he shoots with a liars dart
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| Aimed at a mired art
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| I’ma I’ma
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| I’ma hack at that passé caste system
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| With a class A craft till the last victim of the math
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| Division in a graft decisions on a path for dominion
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| I’m a blast
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| This ghetto with a giant Sharp
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| A lion’s heart defiant with my iron box
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| Fire from the Krylon top with my style on wild
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| And my dial on Rock
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| Can’t stop pariah beat the block till it pops
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| Be to mock your sire be a notch in my Hi Tops
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| Cops for hire try to stop me
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| But can’t make me drop my pliers
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| Gonna crop you wires if you’ll not retire
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| We are not inspired we are not admires
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| If your eyes ears and mouths are not the wiser
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| You an idolizer |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Iron Vox , by - The Procussions. Song from the album The Procussions, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп