Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Strongholdin, artist - Tonedeff. Album song Hyphen, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 25.04.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: QN5
Song language: English
Strongholdin |
The first miss is that you listen, the second’s in suspicion |
The third is rhyme addiction, whenever I be spittin |
I’m flipping better flows. |
I think in decibels |
This is the desert and you’re stupid wearing leather clothes |
Don’t get it twisted bitch, I’m good at evil shit |
Walk up in a church and make a preacher scream out 'Holy Shit!' |
This niggas triple-six, but the reverse of it |
Slaughter tracks sorta like the murders commited by Berkowitz |
Devoted vocalist, overflowing explosive poet riffs |
Don’t play or beef with me, lyrics come to me easily |
Sporadically transmitting freestyles, telekinetically |
I burn heat with 3rd Degree emergencies, Urge Mcs with Urgency |
Wage a whimsical war of written words with me |
Prefer to eat the weak verbally |
Speech is refered to as unique verbal surgery |
It’s LouCipher, cast out of heaven for throwing power trips |
You need a graphing calculator to count the amount of clowns I rip |
Cause once the instrumental drops, it’s obvious the heads’ll bop |
And your mind will get molested |
Like an unsuspecting alterboy with a dirty priest in the confession box |
Cause any amount of bars with no hook will leave your flow shook |
You couldn’t come across a dope rhyme if you jerked off on my notebook |
This Fallen Angel, stronghold affiliate |
Will make even the hardest rapping thug look like a silly bitch |
Always killin it |
And you must’ve lost your sense of touch if you ain’t feeling it |
A Strongholder of Mics the second I grab it |
I’ll stab your ideas till your thoughts are laid out in a casket |
You’ve just been decapitated, put the fucking head in a basket |
Don’t incite my wrath |
Your writtens are the shit, cause I used em to wipe my ass |
Yo, It’s PackFM and strongheezy, roll like dice that’s in monopoly |
Game like Parker Brothers, niggas ain’t coming as properly |
You ain’t on to that? |
Then, you gots to be… Fuck your thoughts of battling me |
Forget about it, bout it, there’s no limit to my masterpiece |
This nonsense has to cease, cause Pack’s a beast on the loose |
Whippin kids like child abuse, once I put my style to use |
Steppin' to me with an excuse is useless, cause I’m too slick |
Styles are ruthless, leave you with no use for toothpics |
My title’s undisputed, but right now, I’m at my peak |
Every bar that I freak opens doors like Dominique |
The rhymes you kick are kinda weak, Definition of obsolete |
You never felt this kinda heat, find my style hard to freak |
Next time you feature me, you’d better put this shit first |
Cause cats will skip through the whole CD just to hear my verse |
I’m cursing any available rhyme-merchant |
So, try purchasing 9 verses of my verbal assertions |
Turning your words worthless |
Tonedeff with Stronghold? |
That’s like, Damn! |
No words to describe this |
Even Bob Barker knows that it’s priceless |
Time to ignite this, I claim know things |
And your Flightless, like an being Ostrich on a plane with no wings |
Cause we be the bilingual flow kings |
They won’t allow me in battles anymore |
Cause the clubs I hit are non smoking |
I be thought-provoking, spit at pop-filters until they soaking |
Leave wack emcees HOPPING mad like sapos screaming COQUI |
I blow the fucking house down in one PUFF |
Regardless of how I sever hearts, it’s One Love |
Concealing my skills is a Tough Bluff |
Like playing the poker with a straight face |
With aces being the only cards that come up |
Your whole crew is dumb-fucks they trying to front with they guns up |
It’s all peace, but in prom night fashion they get done up |
I play for 1-Ups, but don’t march to the drum of fate |
If I got one life to live, then I rob cats for the other eight |
And count it down, 1−2-3−4-5 |
The illest underground hip-hop, we bring it to you live |
For 2000 Milleni-I, it’s like that |
If this shit is off the chain, fuck it y’all; |
we stole the bike-rack |