lirik lagu coal cash - a big problem
[ron ron]
terminally ill every rhyme is a death sentence
every bar will lift from my chest, it would break your neck with it
this is technical excellence, best with a text on a test
and i’m left with a message to tracing the president
hecklers infested the craft and i’m p-ssing your past
’cause after the path ?? ??? ??? ???? ???
you an average rat, happily wack ??? ??
with a faculty staffs asking for capital stacks and make a ?? ?? ?
ha, after they heard me spit it, submerge in the rhythm
give birth to the wisdom through words that emerged in the worst condition
purpose a vision that we he-rs- into the words fit in perfect position
i get busy, sick of middlemen who didn’t do diddly
did it in divinity
f-ck a percentage i’ve been an ident-ty
and the again in me and is with the pen every bar is a penitentiary
it’s locked down, back ?? lines the way that i rock crowds
with a lion’s heart, proud with the fire storm
out running with a tec-9 like who do i catch now
f-ck a chopper i’m popping shots from an office
in the top ?? with hostages, ?? with binoculars
look out to the cars, with rockets end of the choppers
and bombs raises the body from when they drop me
i’m creating an apocalypse, i’m creating an apocalypse
i’m creating an apocalypse, i’m creating an apocalypse
and there ain’t no way to stopping it
[coal cash]
ghostly jitsu style more versatile then yoshmitsu
that closely hit you when i rip through paint upholstery with you
i’ll mostly split you down the middle with a sickle tip
ya b-tch cl1ck is rookie inside their p-ssy like a little cl-t
i whittle skittles belittle ya brittle sigil
i’m vigil to sizzle scribbles of miserable individuals
spitting minimal minerals pitiful been ya pinnacle
literal pine box the blind spot in ya visual
critical entendre from invisible monsters
conquer forbidden planets with the panic i conjure
blanka to tin man the pimp hand like e honda
mantra to win fans grim plans to be bonkers
chomping wonka bars midgard to valhalla
demolishing r-t-rds feast hard on all scholars
dollars to cents spent on all the knowledge condensed
condemning hard rocks to college drenched in solid cement
inventive street smarts beats spark the apocalypse
my props are toupees dooms day smashing metropolis
i block an touché soufflé to slay ya riot squad
try it wyatt earp ya dying first when the iron spark
a lion heart firing darts dipped in krocadil
going over ya head like bald spots an minoxidil
i got the sk!ll to k!ll the top leave ’em copper filled
get drilled in the knot cause when i drop no one stops the yield
’cause i’m dropping nukes from rocket ships
comets let lose when i execute the populace
obnoxiousness creating an apocalypse
monstrous clique ’cause there ain’t no way of stopping this
we’re creating an apocalypse, we’re creating an apocalypse
we’re creating an apocalypse, dead rabbits b-tch ain’t no body stopping this
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