Lyrics Forbidden Scriptures - Vakill, Panik

Forbidden Scriptures

Ayo all’s fair in love and war
In this lyrical tug of war, I struggle more than most do
Wrote a verse on the stamp, the man’s postal
Mid-coastal vocalist, Vakill the host of this
Gave me a shout, yo Breeze, get in they ass
Like shit when a baby come out
Fuck rock the cradle, I rock the fatal
I rock the cape and cop the cable with the stronghold fist piece
Packed with more liquor than an act rap
Niggas is bitch weak
Supabreeze, black Batman, you can’t escape me
What it gonna take me
Wile out and sabotage your breakbeats
So when your DJ cuts
He gets his head blown to the fuck back of his buttcrack
I cut DATs with axe chops
The nigga givin' you the finger, standin' in the back of your snapshots
And that’s not the worst, add on the megahertz
Throwin' bodies like a high speed crash of a hearse
Twenty-four twelve gauges, pointin' at twelve faces
To shred the ugly mugs to bits and send 'em to hell places
Gimme six seconds, I’ll share a sick fetish
And nail your shoulders to your walls so you can watch your bitch get it
It’s Bruce Banner with the screws loose of a loose cannon
With a hand grenade and a pistol to introduce panic
I wanna fuck your whore in the mouth because I hate her guts
Hangin' with me in a battle was unlikely
Like holding anything in your hand like a thousand fucking paper cuts
I got some sharp shit for your smart ass
Well son I wet the windshield through your throw that through your car crash
And I be tugging on you like you making me wanna vomit
Man you looking messed up
Left your body lookin' like ground chuck from the chest up
Sicker than ten lizards, clawin' at ten niggas
Hotter than ten comets and colder than ten blizzards
Came out of the c-section blocked A and C
Toss anything at me, you still ain’t grazin' me
Get so ill it still amazes me
My brain’s a metal case, casin' a metal store
And I guarantee I’ll be up through the mall, nigga ready to war
Yo, you ever hear a nigga scream he wanna battle Jakki?
He’s either Jehovah God or a Man who’s out of his mind
I’m bitchin' my enemies soft with tracks that’s out of this time
Convincing delivery, talk a rapper out of his spine
I’ll snatch a rapper out his Goddamn element
Stomp you out with the force of fifty elephants
I’ll take you so far it becomes irrelevant
Shrink myself, enter your brain and I’ll assault your intelligence
I’m hell sent your little angel, I stuck quickly
And the devil just said, «You cannot fuck with me!»
I’m killin' songs, I do it without a rap
You can drop a billion bones, I’ll walk through 'em without a scratch
Battlin' me you find the words onto deciding factor
I can reverse your brain and make every word you say come out backwards
Bring the sickest emcee to me to stare in silence
I’ll hop inside his body and start infecting his virus
There ain’t nothin' that you can do that would excite me
You slow enough to make a snail look like it’s pushing light speed
My words are excrement projectiles
The shit I talk will make your asshole wanna file divorce and leave your bowels
You ain’t shit to mine, I cripple spines and split ya lines
I slow down reality just so you can rip on time
Like retinas with feet connecting an ass, I kick behind
Go ask your mom to take your place, maybe that bitch can rhyme
I walk on stage, dick in hand, outspit your clan
I know the crowd’s feelin' me no matter how stiff they stand
Cravin Copywrite to spit on a strict diet of fiberglass and bricks
So you cats can’t bite my shit
No stopping my crews fame standing on the roof of McDonalds
The only way you reach the top of the food chain
So what you reachin' for the mic for?
I hate my own rhymes, what the fuck makes you think I’mma like yours?
It’s been killin' me how your clique isn’t feelin me yet
Fuck a mic check, give 'em a disability check
X-rated, make songs to stress haters
Fuck an H bomb, I wanna hear some napalm and flex blazin'
I battle fifty weak flow donors
And beat the odds like an abusive freak show owner
Past foul life’s now identical to my rap style
Take a shit at ya crib and wipe my ass with a bath towel
Still shittin', still hittin' twenty models
Seven Henny bottles later, still spittin' semi auto
My a capella chokes overrated herbs
Rhyme setter sellin' dope, so you know I got a way with words
And fuck edit, engineer, let the swears stay
Like I’m gettin any motherfuckin' airplay
Pure hunger vicious with a track
Use my little underground fame to lure younger bitches in the sack
Bet you didn’t think it get more vicious when attack
When ink and sword form a syntactical union, send tactical units
Practice communion, drinkin' the blood of Christ
'til he became anemic, I’m amademically
Spit a chalk outline when I stock up parents swallowers
Polish my nuts, yo affection is cash
You still can’t afford to talk outshinin'
Your severed spine drenches on my knife
Masochist mastubatory, dick riders beat within nine inches of they life
Y’all gay, questioning why I think with my dick so much
Because it’s the smartest thing to come out of your mouth all day
Twenty-four bricks when I pen a gram
I battle inside of a pentagram of a satanical cult cypher while wearin' adult
diapers
So it depends how hard I shit on you or not bitch
Cross your T’s and your preparation H’s
I got an extinction agenda in these desperation ages
Fuck up the game so bad that I have to skip payin' dues
And go in directly into the payin' reparation stages
Scathe the pain when it’s pen pokin' and invokin' the crimson cascade and rain
And the beef is never over until a fat bitch drops a bar / Barr like Roseanne’s
maiden name
In my universal killables
Closest you’ll come to being an assassin
Is bein' «ass» your first two syllables
My genetic makeup is not that abnormal hell
I’m half lead and when I’m buried in the back of your head
Is the only way I’ll ever be a shell of my former self, think about it