Short sweet hood freeverse, beat made by Carlito's cousin big ups! *all me*
Loonie of Real Talk ToRoNtO cAnAdA 416
Through early 2000's Loonie has built his lyrical skill on paper and through acapella. Eventually after meeting various underground rappers he took the next step and purchased a mic. Building his verbal strength through the mic Loonie began making songs, focusing not so much on the quality of the sound but on the quality of the lyrics and the messages portrayed through his lyrics. Eventually Loonie stepped up from him 10 dollar mic and purchased a professional studio-quality condenser mic. Performing at various venues now LunatiKK is determined to being Hip-Hop out of the gutter and bring the un-recognized city we all know and love so much as Toronto to new heights in the music industry.
Lyrics
Raised as a ghetto kid, influenced by stick up kids/
Addicted to tippin', listen, spittin' out this wickedness/
Malicious kids scopin', sittin' sippin' on they Guinnesses'/
Menaces, the penitent energists that been in this/
Acquaintences, no friendlyness, steady rockin' grimaces/
Vomitin' in it, emetic/
I'ma get it, I'ma get it, I'ma get it on now, posted on the throne now/
Rappers gettin' thrown down, you wanna get blown? Blow!
Blown open, I wetted it up like the ocean/
F*** in' rub it in, hit 'em wit dat lotion/
We approachin' sippin' potion, toasters roastin'/
Forcin' bullets in motion, coastin'/
Down the block that's not ours, puffin' an chokin' we got sars/
On that kush, tha blockstars!/
Push the cop cars in ditches, an' over bridges/
Handle business, movin's physics, countin' digits/
Religious to the hustle wit the muscle we bustin'/
Rushin' into concussions trust an discuss nothin'/
You must'a been flustered again snuffin' the dust up wit a pen/
Sniff suckin' it in/
Ugh, you wiggidy wiggidy whaack/
Fallin' apart, like a sh** ty riggidy shack/
I'm hott, yes I figure me humidity max/
It's funny, i'm giggley n vividly hittin' the tracks/
Spittin' the facts until the death of me/
Until the death of me I'm callin' shots in the game, a referee/
You testin' me? I'll aggressively, oppressively/
Cook you with recipes, a roast, let's toast to who is next to be/
Beaten and eaten just for proceedin' to breathe my air/
I dare you, I swear dude, I'll bury you/
I'll carry you into a crematorium/
Burnin' an' learnin' good 'em, play the game like an accordian/
Bring it to the audatorium an' I'm home/
416 in the zone, come on/
It's Loonie Bones a'da Rex West where we flex best/
Somethin' like a chest press, suggest you jest less/
Heavy cheques for my vets, chains swang on the neck/
Only reason we ever been in it is for success/
You a guest, I'ma host/
I'm alive, you a ghost/
To my folks, ya boii Loonie Bones with the dope/
