Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Necromancer Romantic, artist - The White ShadowDate of issue: 12.11.2012
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Necromancer Romantic |
| Yeah |
| Yeah |
| Canibus, Guilty Smiles |
| The Alice Game |
| Hip hop will never sound the same |
| Yo |
| Pass the gravy, royalty dances masquerading |
| Knight from the last crusade is sane but actin' crazy |
| Rap amazing |
| You wanna combat? |
| The master’s waiting |
| You swear that you’re better than me? |
| I’m past debating |
| Smiles and Bis, the blackest mages |
| Crafting pages, rhyming from the grimoires |
| Necronomicon in the application |
| Fascination when I burn the stage down |
| Amaze crowds, quick draw Holliday, say when? |
| Well I say now |
| I’m your Huckleberry, drunk piano player, aim and shoot it |
| If you came to do it |
| Make you the past like ancient druids |
| Casting fire, necromancer magic |
| Blasting your entire squad |
| Telepathic bending iron bars with the might of Gods |
| Deeper than the sight of stars, if you fly to Mars |
| My minds a bomb, explosions that destroy entire songs |
| I am honorably mentioned |
| I have marketing attention |
| I could spit more bars than a Department of Corrections |
| A bar for every second, after the end it will go silent |
| And when I’m dead in the grave I’ll be a ghost writer |
| War fighters attack, stand your ground |
| Circumstance said «strike from the back to mask the sound» |
| Romance the crowd, dance with the Queen on sacred ground |
| Hi Alice, all of the games have made me proud |
| It’s a strange world we live in |
| Watchya making now? |
| Moving divisions of maps consulted by Eva Braun |
| Drop it like a bunker buster |
| I don’t feel I can trust her |
| Mustard gas from the Russian bombs sampled as percussion |
| Ask my brothers; |
| vodka and soda, cash and comfort |
| You can keep all your radio spots, I ask for nothin' |
| This is ominous, bars that I spit are beyond monsterous |
| But A&R's sponsorship is based only on politics |
| I’m not certain, I’m positive |
| One word could accomplish it — moronic |
| Your main stream is beyond the preposterous |
| Necromancer Romantic, spitting this classic |
| Beyond monsterous |
| Fuck around with Rip |
| Canibus and Guilty Smiles wylin' |
| What the fuck you wanna do now boy? |
| Necromancer magic, blasting your entire squad |
| Burn the stage down, drop it like a bunker buster |
| Necromancer Romantic, the lyrical law |
| Hip hop will never sound the same |
| I’m a new-age nation creation, and Guilty Smile an inspiration for every living |
| derivative of human nature |
| Human or animal, alien, formal or casual; |
| true story hallucinatory or magical |
| Battle-you attitude, improve a microphone aptitude |
| Tools I use to take it to back to school |
| True beluga whale brain cells, blue-man supercomputer Homosapien male |
| Crazy as hell |
| Powered by Intel, for real |
| I save struggled rap by the bell |
| I wrote his name on a cartridge with a thousand shells |
| On a cold mountain slope, dual eyepiece for a scope |
| «Don't miss». |
| «Muthafucka', I won’t!» |
| The eye o' the sniper |
| Transfix, zoom in tighter |
| The hammer click, feelin' hyper than viper bitin' the mystery writer |
| Black iris, rap Osiris grip the mic 'till I get arthritis |
| Javelin-tooth tiger with bronchitis |
| Gold bars from King Midas come in all sizes |
| Prince Pyro’s saliva could start forest fires |
| The borders are private when ten thousand bars are united |
| I’m 'bout to show you a quarter and get you all excited |
| Hip-Hop is my bitch, so don’t even try it |
| Don’t deny it, Canibus with Guilty Smiles wylin' |
| Pig Latin assassin, born in a dirty log cabin |
| We live off acid, termites, and aspirin |
| Rolling up that zigzag, mad niggas is laughin', we old school but what we |
| spitting is classic |
| Paper or plastic? |
| Necromancer Romantic |
| Roaming frantic, Cracker Barrel apparel with a fat ass bitch |
| Cooking hash browns and grits |
| Fuck around with Rip? |
| I’ll hunt you down with bloodhounds and ticks |
| With Lyme disease, flies and fleas, you can’t see, collide with trees |
| My Marines piss on emcees |
| Pine-Sol colored, thought the crime was solved but it wasn’t |
| Got sawed in half by a psychopath SAW gunner |
| Rusty ass metal melt rubber, motherfuckin' food for the buzzards |
| Dirty Harry’s my brother and I’m his ugly cousin |
| Whistling Dixie, get up there and grip that fifty |
| My breath stink, my mustache smell fishy |
| Tell Nikki that her pussy is squishy, she gettin' money, she pretty |
| I’m still livin' like a bum in the city |
| Skid Row skinny, but still get busy |
| Look me up on Wiki |
| If ripping beats is a crime I’m guilty |
| You put a quarter in my cup? |
| It’s a rizzy |
| Y’all niggas know what it is, fuck with me |
| Guilty Smiles, Rip the Jacker, don’t need no more back up |
| When we on the track you gettin' wrapped up |
| Dynamite alloys, salty ass soy sauce cowboys |
| What the fuck you gonna do now boy?! |
| Foul Ball, Guilty Smiles, clear it out y’all |
| Around here we the lyrical law |
| Necromancer Romantic, spitting this classic |
| Beyond monsterous |
| Fuck around with Rip |
| Canibus and Guilty Smiles wylin' |
| What the fuck you wanna do now boy? |
| Necromancer magic, blasting your entire squad |
| Burn the stage down, drop it like a bunker buster |
| Necromancer Romantic, the lyrical law |
| Hip hop will never sound the same |