Rap
Tekst piosenki
Intro:
It's gonna be that, it's gonna be that shit
Hook:
Lounge homeboy you in the danger zone (x8)
Verse 1:
Keith Murray is this mic psychosis
I break your best rapper off thousands of pieces
I'm on some other shit, splittin' wigs with my penmanship
Kickin' flows harder then the music
So feel in your head and chest then pass it to the next
They give it 5 mic checks and all due respect
So please fill it up and check the antifreeze
Cause this nigga Keith drop mad degrees
I launch tomahawk missiles when I talk
With promiscuous intelligence like Mr. Roarke
From New York into the world over
I walk MC's like Jesus walked on water
As my airy frequency reigns through the galaxy
I easily gets busy in phase 3
I'm the nicest MC on this side of the peninsula
Stalkin' the perimeter like a ninja
Hook
Verse 2:
The Def Squad MC's is shitters
On your neuro transmitters
None quitters, none forgetters
Runnin' deep like rivers (word 'em up) what is
My delivers, which is, givin' crews the shivers
I'm like a mad scientist with this son
I concoct some shit that'll bust the sun
I got the stunky funky illest funk flow
For the glamorous scandalous world of radio
So how you want it, head crack, trips or ceelo?
I gets root deep like cavity creeps
Rockin' motherfuckers directly to sleep
A tybarrious rebel without a pause
For the cause and no clause, style is the son of noise
Peace to the hardcore, the outlaw raw
Bug, young blood thugs, smoke a ounce a day to 64 ounce jugs
In the realms of the danger
Hook
Verse 3:
Bust the contrast and how I forecast
Supersonic hyper phonic goin' on that ass paragraph
With the million dollar bionic metaphorical lyrical math
Generating off the chronic
By cooling in the dark path and the drug wrath of the ath
And the ill shit that I craft
It's labeled as sick logic to the critics on the didicks
But they don't know the half of the half
The apparatus status of my madness is
I conjure up a new style puffin' ganja, over the hook
Causin' more trauma with my mouth then the stealth bomber
Killing every style in the book
Like it's goin' outta style tomorrow
My style is coming from down south and cross yonder
I drop the dope shit for masses of non-believers
Like spiral passes to butter finger wide receivers
As my photo type sound gays leis and hoes my style probe
To the farthest reaches of the globe
Payin' dues got me cockin' tools, you fuckin' fools
I'm rippin' crew and no exception to the the god damn rules
This is danger
Hook
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