Crappy recording of my newest rap. Its not even done yet still 2 more verses to write

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Target Acquired
THC

Light it up, start it up,
And watch it burn down,
And drive downtown,
Load it up, smoke it up,
And shoot ‘em down,
And hit the ground,
Mutha f***a it aint easy,
To rap like me,
With straight up
“G” terminology,
even though I’m not
Straight off the streets,
This sh*** is still hot,
stand up and try me,
don’t care what you think,
this beat’s got everything
But the mutha f***in kitchen sink,

Now we’re rollin right towards ya,
In a 4 door Corolla,
Let the beats play strident,
Rims bright as trident,
The law, we don’t abide it,
So dont try and fight it,
Just grab a CD, play THC
you know you wanna hear me,
I’m the rolex watch, of gangsta rap,
don’t like it, your ass is capped,
wiped right off the map,
better check your gun,
the streets aint all about fun,

instrumentality

I got friends in high places,
They’ll go face to face with,
Your boys and their Ace’s
You’ll get taught disgrace,
Cause its not about race,
Its just a race for first place,
To be a famous face,
To have a man on each base,
Boy you better make haste
pick up your pace,
Don’t stop to take a taste
Ill create some new spaces,
In your chest and waist as,
I blow half your face off,


I don’t smoke, I don’t toke,
But my rhymes are dope,
Yeah you know it Loc,
This sh*** aint a joke,
you don’t like it,
I don’t care,
Just watch your air,
And be aware,
Of, a gun loading.
Exploding,
So foreboding a sound,
You hit the ground
The world spins ‘round
two seconds prior
On my list as a liar,
My brain said fire
It was target acquired.

Instrumentality

everyone you see,
Will pay the entrance fee,
Just to see me, THC,
Bust a dope beat
to make you move your feet,
These lyrics are sweet,
So get up off your seat,
And prepare to meet,
A real writer, with tempo
Game decider, ready set go
Tough fighter, we’ll swarm ya
Get your lighter, it’ll warm ya
Wave it higher, now get,
Slow, and get low,

Tre pound verse a “k” round,
You know you’re on your way down,
I’ll take you downtown,
To see the doctor,
But its too late, my bullets rocked ya,
And my homeboys all mocked ya,
I finally caught ya,
Don’t lie, don’t even try,
Just breathe you last sigh and prepare to die,
I aim steady cause I aint high,
I hear your bi*** screamin’ farewell,
you’re on your way to hell,
The last thing that I tell
Is that this record’s gonna sell,

Instrumentality