lirik lagu horseshoe g.a.n.g - soul assassin radio freestyle
[verse 1: julius luciano]
cl-ss is in session, peep it, you rapper’s get lectured
i ain’t askin’ no question, d-mn the socratic method of teachin’
f-ggot’s restin’ in peace when my jack is jabbing’ and stabbin’ your flesh, intestines is leakin’
have respect when you speakin’, brandished weapons i’m squeezin’ them thangs, my ruger scream
i’m chewing these fool emcees, i’m a new disease
some say i’m too extreme, use my bazooka to pursue my dreams
call me marksman luther king
i’m in the booth with the [?]
slow motion like a movie scene, so my every move is seen
maneuvering, come through with the newest bling
louis ring, lookin’ sharp on my hands like wolverine
i’m the future, the newest breed
julius luci’s a fruit that grew from a super seed
i supersede, surp-ss what you achieve
i lead myself, shall i continue? do proceed
live in the booth, the booth is where my crew convene
call it the delivery room where the truth’s conceived
i ain’t gotta talk, holler at the pistol
pop you when the wind blow, that’s how i shoot the breeze
i’m merkin’ off more dudes than ww, [?], vietnam and the persian gulf war
i feel like i served in all 4
you n-ggas like herbivores, beefs with my circle’s awful
dezzy holdin’, your vest explodin’
leave you with a messy colon, intestines showin’
techs, i hold em
life’s a game like texas hold’em
and i’mma win, i’m destiny’s child like kelly rowland
fly as bessie coleman, who the h-ll is bessie coleman?
that’s a history question for em
aggressive flow is somethin’ different like the desert snowin’
run all over the track, ahhh, jesse owens
[verse 2: demetrius capone]
live in my anger, your b-tch l!ckin’ the stranger
you kiss her and taste d-ck then you give her your name, you n-ggas is lame
i kidnapped the kid in the manger, no christmas, i gift wrapped d-ck to your dame
it’s no hanukkah and no kwanza, i put that on yo momma
red beam’ll dot your eye like obama did osama
then i’m trappin’ b-tches, capone’s tryin’ to go find him a rihanna to f-ck with a broke condom
they fall in love when i f-ck em, and that’s the f-ckin’ plan
upside down 69 standin’ up is how i f-ck a tramp
and then they handed me a hundred grand
it’s hard to understand but being underhanded gives me the upper hand
but you will marry that stripper
you a b-tch n-gga, you a married -ss n-gga
you got in-laws, i got outlaws
i’m carryin’ the cl!cka, you carry cinderella’s gl-ss slipper
wait a minute, hold up, hold on, hold on
ay yo, yo, yo
this is friendly fire, any n-gga that didn’t retire is finna expire
old n-gga, k!lla for hire
listen i’m d-ckin’ a thick b-tch, thicker than tyra
tryin’ to untie her tubes when i’m diggin’ inside her
a rider, startin’ drama in this b-tch
if you a famous rapper then your momma is a b-tch
i’m tryin’ to get dissed so i can spit that hardcore
you n-ggas got it backwards but still it’s raw war
i’m finna start spittin’ at innocent lyricists
i’m finna start dissin’, any n-gga spittin’s my arch-nemesis
i’m finna barge in and just rip n-ggas apart
the minute i start spittin’ venomous darts it’s finna get dark in this b-tch
see from [???] i off em and start cob walkin’ on his coffin
caution, you don’t want my black heart to darken
sell your body parts at a black market auction
[verse 3: andrew ‘dice’ dinero]
when my heater unload lead, i’ll leave you with no head
shots’ll riddle your features, leave you leakin’ on [?]
i’ll beat you until you feeble and sleepin’ with broke legs
cause of what i’m inkin’, they think i need to be on meds
code red, the cob’s in the buildin’
you know, the sh-t that i’m on is colder than skis or a snow sled
i been dreamin’ of meetin’ the beat with some beef so i can cleaver its meat and leave em deceased and feast off its cold flesh
carve “ad” in his forehead, leave a severed dome in his ho’s bed
beef with me, go ahead, i’m lethal with or without the d eagle
and i keep them things in a pair of [?]
and i squeeze them things, the [?] heat seek you
and these emcees are squares for e equal
test me, get your lil kids kidnapped while your kids nap
get some ends and get back or get some limbs gift wrapped
[verse 4: kenny]
i’m tryin’ to stomp a n-gga’s face in the concrete
punch a n-gga like a time sheet
clock a n-gga like a time piece
but [?], that n-gga still down like jon b
they don’t know everytime these women want the truth, they be callin’ on you
meanin’ callin’ on the shoes, my long john be
comfortin’ hoes at night like long-johns be
doin’, like ewing, my clique ain’t gotta ring
my bodyguard got a piece named whitney that’ll sing
put me in by the booth, bada boom bada bing
bars on fire like i’m writing inside the [?]
yeah, you as hot as me inside your dreams
i’m f-ckin’ this game forever, this is not a fling
really this is not a thing, d-ld- sh-t
your p-ssies kinda stink, real ho sh-t
you b-tch should get a shrink, ill domed b-tch
left my pen, dropped my pad, i don’t feel homesick
a stealth soldier, softly on surface my steeltoes tip
my steel on hip and seal closed lips
and kinfolk, you ain’t built for this
i’ve just noticed, this is no diss
i’m real focused, you’re real bogus
i write quick as stenographers
if i couldn’t rhyme a verse, i’d date the daughter of a rich man and take him for all she’s worth
make her take her momma’s purse, then kidnap the daughter and get the cheese once i capture her like a photographer
n-ggas think i’m peaceful cause sieg’s in the cut
call me irish spring, my bars clean n-ggas up
yeah me n-gga what? i got that type of flow
since you like to pretend, act like you know
no speakin’ on the [?]
these n-ggas are like [?] chicks on my d-ck when they need to get off
i get lit off then
but my addiction for pennin’ is worse
i can’t quit, it’s a curse
i’ve actually written a verse since i’ve been spittin’ this verse, i gotta carry a pen yo
i digress, f-ck a cop like harriet winslow
to all of you haters, i’ve become immune
grindin’ on the clock cause we know our time’s comin’ soon
made about a hundred moves, sh-t i could only fill you in on in the afterlife
too private like hermaphrodites
you could be a saint but not half as nice
we really who no one on the corner got swag alike
[verse 5: crooked i]
out on them streets they put my life on the line
between these sheets they put my life in them lines
crooked designing these rhymes
givin’ sight to the blind
in the dark my recital will shine light in ya mind
like god cypher divine
i’m a fight for my kind
n-ggas…
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