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lirik lagu chelsea reject - 57

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[verse 1: chelsea reject]
i’m on some new sh-t, shout out to my lucians
go to the caribbean and get up on my cruise ship
i am just myself, i have never gave two sh-ts
chucking deuces, not here for your amus-m-nt
that’s stupid, i can guide your intellect
you can be a student
bet you bring horse to the water but cannot make him consume it
gotta go harder, gotta go harder than before
i’m so gifted like christmas, make you wanna praise the lord
and raise up off the floor because it’s not a compet-tion
just a pen and paper meeting in compositions, for conscious writtens
convinced a christian i could spit, despite the contradictions
so eyewitness, open your irises
they tryna’ ride with us, influence influenza viruses
inject the ether into your eyes twitching
i get up on my mission
reside in the corner, flex hard, and leave your eyes twitching

[verse 2: wati heru]
holy thunder-f-ck, this is mugen mix with mitsurugi
katana cataclysms coughing izm spitting loogy’s
yo carl sherron, sh-t we harsh as carcinogens in city loosies
off skunk drunk in bay ridge like, “who you calling mooly?”
like f-ck the mafia, the gods get the goons flipped
ya’ broad wanna boom fl1ck, in suny on some loon sh-t
-ssume he on some doom sh-t, cause son be madd villainy
americas most blunted cheeba and grabba still in me
gazing over giza, i see the merkaba vividly
tamed the tessiaga like inuyasha i center chi
catch me in the casa contemplating on the chem to chief
sharpening my shurikens for the showdown of the century
channeling yip man through wing chun uppercuts
obiyah kin0bi, the shin0bi, holy thunder-f-ck

[verse 3: carl sherron]
master universal knowledge and wisdom, blasted of exotics with visions
of prada rocking women plotting with millions
cause on these blocks they be trippin’
a cop was shot wth the glock by a gremlin
no morals, hooded up, unbound by religion
little b-tches living like chickens
the 5 percenters said it was written
taught me no pork, i traded all for that wisdom
yo, these my thoughts daily, war on terror, brenda’s baby
first it pained me, but lately been realizing this sh-t here made me
aim the ruger at imposter or intruder
try to spark then my cap(s)ule shooters be sure to diffuse ya’ loser
then get ghost for evening, post and stay low for the weekend
blow a whole o with my queen and poke her and after i’m leaving
off to breeze with heathens, savages offering heaters
plotting like secret world leaders, blinded by all the worlds evils
product of my environment, if that’s the case it’s safe to say
that i’m the embodiment, of allah at his highest kid
spitting that fire sh-t, probably bring god out retirement
with microphone, i’m the livest with
scopes aimed at the highers up and their heinous acts
death to all then n.y. ’em, beat down with your yankee bats
see a false prophet, lift your shirt and grab your rocket
aim and c-ck it, pull the trigger
let him live, that’s not an option


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