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Hot out tha box for 2003 Wattson is a solo artist out of St LOuis with a different twist on battle raps and other forms of hiphop
Wattson comin at you with his own take on rapping. Witty, yet still accessible to all walks of life...
Song Info
Genre
Charts
Peak #1,419
Peak in subgenre #796
Author
Watt$on
Rights
Jon Rayfield
Uploaded
July 16, 2002
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.7 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Story behind the song
A track flaunting the skills I possess, I bring stress for those trying to bless...
Lyrics
Chorus:
ay yo I heard this shit was hella wack
who came up with this shit?
ay yo I heard this shit is hella wack
Verse 1:
I live vicariously through my inhibitions
Keep heads behind the glass through manipulation of superstitions
my stupor dismisses rumors of insurrection by missives
wreckin disses cuz this cat is hectic when he beckons heretics
the second era hits, conceptions that are parentless
sterile bits of virile wits to complicate the errant kiss
death seduces with knowledge that induces apparent bliss
sharing this message disperses my thoughts vocally through air and mist
abandon science and drop shit that make your colon bleed
the man behind this mask rampages through on golden steeds
bold soldiers sold their souls to unload their swollen greed
fallen below, where demons scavenge while the fallen feed
withdrawal indeed, when I impregnate my dictum
it penetrate so deep in your rectum you identify with rape victims
now that's what I call misplaced wisdom
it's dismal how rappers lack the precision to track the vision
my back is hidden, you don't get another stab at it
retract my dick like ABC pullin a show by Cavett
and let your mother grab it
cuz even though she's had it
watt$on's a delicacy like sea-turtle truffle stuffed with mustard rabbit
destructive havoc, crew dynastic like Etruscan savages
my samurai style rends flesh while you be tusslin cabbages
nine hustlin rabid high stress-fractured cats ravage the cage
while my alchemized words permenantly damage the page
I manage my rage with sick beats and ill rhymes
channel the poison to watch it leap to kill minds
superficially you still look fine
but give it an eternity or two and you'll feel crooked spines
and steal hooked lines, that grab on to my attention
like dragons braggin about how their average emotion is tension and rage
slayin emcees but not countin by gauge,
the length of this sage's blade is mountin by age
Chorus x2
Verse 2:
yo when I spit verse
I don't curse churches or my worthless first kiss
armin emcees for battle, oops I forgot the word diss!
my battleship's in A-1 the primary dimension
I'm runnin the halls, and giving YOU after school detention
I practice wrapping rappers rapidly in plastic
building lactic acid in my back from jackin your ass quick
my rhymes is so sick, i need some surgery
cats see the size of my dick and try to murder me
I'm hurriedly furnishing the jury's need to be hung
your crew be blowin fine lines like that MF George Jung
Keep your tongue out yo mouth, before you swallow it in seizures
cuz you just caught me and my crew jackin off on your t-shirts
i'm not even in reverb, but you're still hearin an echo
your mind flips my rhymes it grabs my shit doesn't let go
my flow's smooth while yours is rough like sandpaper
I'm pimpin hard, I lay more hoes (hose) than mexican landscapers
Exhaling vapors from dank capers rolled up in papers
mathematically flows get added line by line to get the straight verse
bitches rappin get jacked for they gay purse
i'm like rain, hail, and sleet when I rap, how can i possibly make your day worse
i fill hearses when i battle, killin cats who can't match my skill
watt$on, when I beat you feed you to the hounds of the baskervilles
you've had your swing of wack, so step away from the plate
cauterizing destinies like i be sealing your fate!!
Chorus x2
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