Song picture
Horns Under The Halo
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no hook... just str8 spit, took me bout a couple weeks to write all the lics and record... tell me what u think
Artist picture
Young artist wit good taste in music.
Yo i'm 16 years old. I have loved hip-hop for about five years now and I love everything about it.
Song Info
Charts
Peak #189
Peak in subgenre #91
Uploaded
July 04, 2006
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.2 MB 128 kbps 3:29
Lyrics
An ill sixteen year old raps-his-passion/ i'm tricky and fearful call me the combat-assassin/ I feel like a soilder that can't be laid-to-rest/ no matter the way i behave made-u-upset/ my intensions are correct when i spit-on the-mic/ gettin' erections off of this shit, it constricts-my-life/ Call me the champ, rockin'-the-flow-so-hard/ i'll steal ya fans, poppin'-show's-with my-barz/ Clean-up ya-act, u call yourself an emcee?/ ur dream-ain't-rap, i'm all the theme u need/ let my refreshing lyrics filter thru ur brain/ and maybe they'll start replenishing the time-of-day/ that u need to rethink the size of your mind-frame/ the king plays his style and ur's can't ride-fame/ i'm completely purified, and hard to get a hold of/ when i'm present greet me, whack rap is about to be over/ when u hear my hot tounge spit-insane-vocals/ it'll change ur norm, and split-lame-locals/ i'm entertainment to these outgoing-hip-hop-fans/ i'll never change it i won't stop flowing-sick-hot-jams/ I inject meds, i'm spittin' wit this path i'm ill/ intellicet was said, trippin on my rap appeal/ i will lyrically hurt u till u resign-from-livin'/ or go completely def, and decline-bein'-lifted/ it's too late now you've already heard-the-truth/ God don't want u now, i've burned-the-booth/ with my deadly-mimicing-demon-speaches/ that are steadly-uplifting-reason-for-diseases/ try and copy my style is like a choking-hazard/ no one dares to repeat this, it's unspoken-bastards/ u can laugh u can completely ignore-me/ cuz i don't give a fuck, God's the only man that comes before-me/ word the fuck up, ur listenin' to the straight wise/ with incrediable technique, teachin' the uncivilized/ The amazing Taktical, his rhymes are rough/ spittin' flames on the mic gonna make it destruct/ almost every rap cypher's a heated-discussion/ hip-hop's like a beat that needed-precussion/ i heard ya'll rappin' about what u stash-out/ i woudn't see any of it even if u lived in a glass-house/ it ain't nuttin' to a slick-writer, quick-fighter/ i was born in the rhytmetic-cypher/ i spit-fire, and i always grip the mic-tighter/ Go up on stage, rip flames, satisfiey-and-repeat/ i'm a beast in a cage u can't save, rapidly-increase/ my anger-and-torment, deliver excruciating pain/ i'm a danger-to-the-enviroment, remember this thing can't be tamed/ Rap-music brought it out of me about a year ago/ cant-refuse-it, it just grew on me now i fear to let it go/ I express my feelings to ya'll but u can't get to me/ nontheless a majority of ya'll at even fit to me/ 97% of humans are stupid, that's why i educate/ everyone with my music, so u can grow brains and use 'em I'm practically ridin' the mic with my smooth-flow/ I maracasly still ya sight, i'm deranged you-know/ Threating you and your family with my lyrical verses/ Penatrating my vocals through your skull like iron horses/ Maintain your composer with the enemy/ I cause enormus destruction... the only friend i need is (the devil)
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