trap.
01-28-2013, 12:52 AM
01-11-2002
clockwise:
peep the ill style snake stance swift like a reptile/
vocal stockpile blaze heat movement’s agile/
percentile for you surviving is close to none/
like drummers marching onto battlefields with no gun/
in a hail of verbal rounds if that ain’t slayed you yet/
i puncture your chest quick with the ends of bayonets/
me with a mic is like a pettin zoo for dahmer or lector/
devourin DEMI while I’m steadily bombin your sector/
shoot the dice with a grin and I’m prayin for snake eyes/
cause that’s when I release the venom and start to break guys/
you’s fake guy demi-god, and I know you can’t rhyme/
i strike souls from computer consoles just to kill time/
and while I slay the minutes that pass I get in ya ass/
find the hose and cut the line that got your head gassed/
Clok spit phenomenal son, you in a sticky situation/
like when you was a young kid with crazy glue performin masterbation/
better use the same code, 911/
explosive lines break spines and then blind you son/
they’ll never find you son like pesci in corn fields/
you got catchin up to do Dem, Clok was born ill/
you murderous son? c'mon Dem let's be real/
thats like orphan Annie runnin in the spot grippin the steel/
grippin the wheel makin chains retract on torture racks/
screamin as i'm removin vertebrae supportin ya back/
kids ask Clok why would you want those dicks to start/
cause i know Demi-god couldn't get live on 106 and Park/
my nickname is clark the way i spit is super man/
no need for a second these lines enough to do you man/
demi-god
going beans!
battle against me?u must of thought it was the end of time
i know u well,probably snatched yo verse from HIphop online!
yo weak ryhme flow should be abolished
i claim to be the WISEST nigga the way I CLOCK knowledge
stepping to me is like a drunk man driving fucked up cars
i will make u soon retire from the game wit these next few bars
Lost and in Peril wit steril blade ya fates put str8 ya final dates wit death i'ma decapitate,
Aight yo ya talk shit bout how my fates lost truth is my fates tossed ideas thats too complicated
for ya brain waves, my words leave ya derainged an dazed wit red haze destroyin ya vision
i'ma make incisions along ya spinal track wit primal attacks i'ma let ya blood flow, i'ma make
the flood a show an take on cell out crowds, sell ya body parts ta jail mates an watch them yell
out loud, ya talk about teachin me lessons an me preachin blessins but ya shits weak, liked
tweaked out niggaz my weakest shit seems bleak, create devistation in nations wit increased passion
release heat that destroys even ya greatest factions, ya crewz death like ya own just drawn out
ya lack heat so i'ma spawn dought across ya brain wavez, lost beneath the earth ya body secretin
dirt cause ya tested the wrong foe, i'ma leave ya thoughts dismantled ya parts mishandled cause
ya wacka then my dayz of tryna win HOLY, wit my weakest hits i'm still ya master wit lost cause ya
punk ass turn into a pastor, claimin ya ain't got no GOD while ya need one i'ma breed fun inta ya
deaths path, nigga don't try it cause my wraths back
Just ****** death for L(ackin) P(rayer) wit ya death seconds away ya start prayin ta all gods but
nothing can help u, i'm still holdin heat an my heat still destroy u.
clockwise:
peep the ill style snake stance swift like a reptile/
vocal stockpile blaze heat movement’s agile/
percentile for you surviving is close to none/
like drummers marching onto battlefields with no gun/
in a hail of verbal rounds if that ain’t slayed you yet/
i puncture your chest quick with the ends of bayonets/
me with a mic is like a pettin zoo for dahmer or lector/
devourin DEMI while I’m steadily bombin your sector/
shoot the dice with a grin and I’m prayin for snake eyes/
cause that’s when I release the venom and start to break guys/
you’s fake guy demi-god, and I know you can’t rhyme/
i strike souls from computer consoles just to kill time/
and while I slay the minutes that pass I get in ya ass/
find the hose and cut the line that got your head gassed/
Clok spit phenomenal son, you in a sticky situation/
like when you was a young kid with crazy glue performin masterbation/
better use the same code, 911/
explosive lines break spines and then blind you son/
they’ll never find you son like pesci in corn fields/
you got catchin up to do Dem, Clok was born ill/
you murderous son? c'mon Dem let's be real/
thats like orphan Annie runnin in the spot grippin the steel/
grippin the wheel makin chains retract on torture racks/
screamin as i'm removin vertebrae supportin ya back/
kids ask Clok why would you want those dicks to start/
cause i know Demi-god couldn't get live on 106 and Park/
my nickname is clark the way i spit is super man/
no need for a second these lines enough to do you man/
demi-god
going beans!
battle against me?u must of thought it was the end of time
i know u well,probably snatched yo verse from HIphop online!
yo weak ryhme flow should be abolished
i claim to be the WISEST nigga the way I CLOCK knowledge
stepping to me is like a drunk man driving fucked up cars
i will make u soon retire from the game wit these next few bars
Lost and in Peril wit steril blade ya fates put str8 ya final dates wit death i'ma decapitate,
Aight yo ya talk shit bout how my fates lost truth is my fates tossed ideas thats too complicated
for ya brain waves, my words leave ya derainged an dazed wit red haze destroyin ya vision
i'ma make incisions along ya spinal track wit primal attacks i'ma let ya blood flow, i'ma make
the flood a show an take on cell out crowds, sell ya body parts ta jail mates an watch them yell
out loud, ya talk about teachin me lessons an me preachin blessins but ya shits weak, liked
tweaked out niggaz my weakest shit seems bleak, create devistation in nations wit increased passion
release heat that destroys even ya greatest factions, ya crewz death like ya own just drawn out
ya lack heat so i'ma spawn dought across ya brain wavez, lost beneath the earth ya body secretin
dirt cause ya tested the wrong foe, i'ma leave ya thoughts dismantled ya parts mishandled cause
ya wacka then my dayz of tryna win HOLY, wit my weakest hits i'm still ya master wit lost cause ya
punk ass turn into a pastor, claimin ya ain't got no GOD while ya need one i'ma breed fun inta ya
deaths path, nigga don't try it cause my wraths back
Just ****** death for L(ackin) P(rayer) wit ya death seconds away ya start prayin ta all gods but
nothing can help u, i'm still holdin heat an my heat still destroy u.