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Raining Arrows (Cypher)
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hip hop rap newfoundland gimp triplesicks productions
Hip Hop artist from the East Coast: Birchy Bay, Newfoundland WHAT UP?
What up, what up? My name is Kyle Preston a.k.a Gimp, I’m from a small town in Newfoundland called Birchy Bay. Before I was even considering the possibility of being an artist I have had a deep passion for music, it is my escape from everything and always has been. I love hip hop unconditionally. This music, along with metal, has kept me alive at times where there was (in my mind) no way out. The first song I ever wrote I was around 13 or 14 and it was a rap about the Simpsons (hahahahaha) and my teachers at the time would sometimes get me to perform it for the other classes and I received nothing but praise from it. I knew at that time that maybe I had a chance at this, also fully understanding that being discovered on the east coast of Canada was highly unlikely, although that was no reason to not pursue what I felt I would be good at, and was about to find out how much I was in love with creating music...
Song Info
Charts
Peak #491
Peak in subgenre #271
Author
Words: Kyle Preston/ Music: Dwight Thorne
Rights
TripleSicks Productions (all rights reserved)
Uploaded
May 04, 2013
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.1 MB 192 kbps 2:14
Lyrics
V: ...I can't be snuffed, you fancy f*** s better scant, and pick ya pants, and your panties up/ ...yeah I see you at the table, better ante up/ ...catch you f*** in' with the cable, get your family cut/ you man enough? I'm high as giraffe pussy from crack, you whack rappers can either adapt to me or act sookie/ ..lookie.... book it and fast, i'm a bad cookie, a psycho for black magic, as mad as my ass should be/ ......thought train full of octane, you c*** s can rot watchin' me cop squats in a clogged drain/ ...you couldn't spit without me laying the blueprint, in the booth with a pad while you in class with the glue-stick/ ...the new sh** , but still that rude boy you can't punish/ ...sick..fans throw up their hands...and stomach.../ I race straight to the plate, homey you ran from it/ ...watchin' a man plummet, he got what he had comin'/ ...woah... ... you just a regular john, I'm like a mixture of Shredder, Spawn, Megatron and Ghengis Khan/ ...picture a witch doctor...armed to the tits, Hip Hop's son-of-a- b*** , walkin' with his middle fingers drawn/...you can't compare me, can barely do me, i'm bout as eerie as bein' buried with Gary Busey in a scary movie/ ...my words are weapons... my..lungs.. a pair of uzi's, i'm a parachute to a paratrooper, don't dare to lose me/ ...I hock up ether....cough reefer....I drop hot bars and dope rhymes, homey, you got neither/....I sold you cocaine... a pistol pushed in my mouth told me that talk's cheaper...so f*** slangin' i'm back home in the basement...tell me I ain't sh** and I'll put my asshole in your face, tell you to taste it/ .. washed up rapper... FUCK that I'm a titan/ ..lightning striking with the voltage heightened/ now... don't let your ego eat you.... your "OG" little "bo peep" flow's weak, and I don't need to speak to beat you/ ...I'm pleased to meet you, hi... FUCK YOU, I DON'T NEED YOU, BYE! / either be a part of my team or that's what I treat you like/ I'm out.....
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