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lirik lagu j-raw - books of war

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its siege!
like a blitzkrieg, in the battlefield
i snagglep-ssies
handle the league
verbally to scramble goodies
it’s me, i hit beats for
attention, like a kids screech, excuse me, excuse me (french accent)
i be the banchee, the plan be
to reach the big screen , without plan b
or a
lacky, im a daddy without them babies, yet i got my candy easily,
wacky laughy tacky
please
attack me hack me slash me, with my agility
i can’t be scratched like acne
shook kids is took in the alley, okay?
no booking as k!llers with flows homay
when ya names pattie
cake, patty cake, o d
cookin n-ggas like tostonèz, you mad b?
all day! roast opponents, in tha fray
toast to tonay, great like a tiger
move cyber, thru the snake’s type of vipers,
the fake types of liars, make pyro
fires like prometheus, flows hideous
premiering and schemin in skeemasks the
theme blasts cytoplasts as i hyper dash
for cream or cash
supreme as i surp-ss, your -ss
mightier math, of a writers wrath
in a rhymer’s rap, finer flab like
concentrated fats, your tires flat
retire at this and that, listen ack
slot holders, snot noses
stop moaners with hot explosives
like c4, before i
see gore, i feel more
then back to the holster
ultra voltage to pulses
like defibrillators, the kid with the latest data
holds it open with extra focus
yo it’s, closing but it ain’t broken, left the
mic smoking in inferno with each word spoken
it’s like i’m toking, diagnosing
the doses of dopeness
hold it open like i’m posing
but i ain’t posing to front
like an upholding opponent
hold up a moment, like it’s a hold up
put your hands where i can’t see em, i
know you can’t believe this like an atheist
how history is, and always was fake
thru the years, where we all had fake ears and tears
and what’s real here is mysterious
there, secretive, s-d-stic and malicious in the
sickness of the manifested fears
whats going on in the best of years??

v for vendetta scene

v: i can -ssure you i mean you no harm
evey: who are you?
v. : who? who is but the form following the function of what and what i am is a man in a mask
evey: well i can see that
v. : of course you can, i’m not questioning your powers of observation, i’m merely remarking upon the paradox of asking a masked man who he is
evey: oh, right
v. : but on this most auspicious of nights, permit me then, in lieu of the more commonplace soubriquet, to suggest the character of this dramatis persona. voila! in view humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of fate. this visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the “vox populi” now vacant, vanished. however, this valorous visitation of a bygone vexation stands vivified, and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin, van guarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition
the only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous
verily this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it’s my very good honour to meet you and you may call me v
evey: are you like a crazy person?


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