Song picture
Blood Runs Frigid
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Charts
Peak #1,462
Peak in subgenre #845
Author
Marquee
Rights
Power Within
Uploaded
September 24, 2003
MP3
MP3 3.5 MB, 128 kbps, 0:00
Story behind the song
For a friend who got locked up... Fuck the 5-Z
Lyrics
Layin out the game for ya'll, im never poppin too early, Never known to stall Slangin things, fans think its cute I ball, and think I do it for ya'll Well you best back up out my face before I make that call, an fill you with more shells than the ocean saw Open up ya mit, baby can you catch my drift? Dipped into some murky flows, So it's the description to sift Through fools gold, searchin for the jewel to fit An carry me farther than a mic tyson hit, break your album down and straight flush the shit Dispose of it, doin crimes, holdin nines, buffin my own demo, cats love to see me shine But it's like I'm starin at a concrete watch, facin hard times Thats why I rhyme, my bedspread laced with the scent of kind Pigs had me locked for too long, still tryin to release my mind Pissed off, let it be known after every cleverly dropped line My flows are devine, never store bought Im like the single light in the night, and you's the moth Ain't no such thing as mc viagra, so you'll always be soft I'm so known around death, they say I smell like roses, ya casket closes My rhymes influence like moses, with the mic in my hand, I can part any sea Can't you see, fuck racial, Im on some verbal supremacy An you best have protection if you think of fuckin with me Come buckin at me, better hit with 4, 5, or 6, or your name will be synonimous with split Leave you unconcious in a ditch, without finishin the entire fifth, im that pissed Like the girls on ya block, I be layin this game down, with surround sound, to entice a couple rounds Of raw spittin, verbalized shittin, for phony kids, or politicians Who all got my mind flippin, like burger patties after bein beat to submission I give myself pleasure, when the tips are skin lickin, dead body disposale in a hole I use to fish in Round three, blood floodin ya eye baby, what can you see Who can this be, to inflict this cranial damage in a criminal manner, tryin to figure if I hit you with a verse, or a sledgehammer Grammatically flustered, I got more pride in one verse than 10 of your mixes could muster, I hate to call you a dum dum but its synonimous with sucker Kids call me red-line cause im an all out mother fucker Couldnt buy my rhymes, thats the art FREE style, so sit back relax, listen, and let your mind expand for a while A fair warning, be wary child, only one flavor gets spit from my mouth, and its sure ain't mild Your spits are weak to erosion, plus I blow up more tracks than railroad explosions Stick my dick into your brain homie, FUCK what you knowin, cause marquee is quick to have ya cranium open You givin me a reason, is just somethin im hopin Woulndt be a challenege, would be a warm up, me puttin on a show Cause you better have the strength of the hoover if you wanna stop my flow
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