lirik lagu mic capes - bloodsport (everybody dies)
i talk differently pardon my harsh delivery
mazel tov to my n~ggas and molotovs for my enemies
i paint it vivid i’m basquiat with the imagery
they seen the vision the minute they felt my energy
to put it simply this audio homicide
the part where your momma cries
ricky getting revenge / it’s tre deciding to ride
money making capes / it’s mitch flipping a pie
cane holding a choppa / bishop gripping a nine
heart of mother teresa but keep a criminal mind
humble and levelheaded but it’s a k!lla inside whenever i choose to rhyme
i give ’em chills them serial k!ller vibes
the stereo won’t survive the violence i’m providing (yeah)
all you’ll is the body all you’ll hear is the sirens (uh)
swag over they [?] our kind just don’t align
suckers [?] with shooters their kind just ride the pine
so say a prayer while you still breathing
and social media is really just a roman coliseum
bunch of thumbs up and thumbs down / live to see you die (die)
sometimes i truly wonder about that ribbon in the sky
that stevie talked about
precede to chalk ’em out and stake the bodies
give ’em mass graves via sound waves i’m catching [?]
either move on or catch a tombstone / i’m digging plots
suckas move wrong they getting boomed on for sending shots (yo~yo~yo)
i’m so north saint johns be the home court (uh)
cold~blooded with a flow like a blowtorch
name a rapper they’ll get splattered left a cold corpse
disrespectful n~gga slap a rapper on his own porch (all facts)
to make it clear they poked a bear and woke a monster up
they not prepared and ain’t aware of what they conjured up
they’ll need a crucifix and sage to get me off their ass
sermons what i’ll serve ’em grab a he~rs~ disperse the body bags
punchlines will make this n~gga wobble like a sloppy [?]
show up at your show and let you know that you ain’t got a pass (so true)
all that yapping and that trolling on the internet
will get your jaw broken i don’t tolerate no disrespect (hey where you at though)
i need that addy patty we gone pat your pockets (pat your pockets)
smack you like the b~tch you are and crack you for your wallet (right)
n~ggas think it’s sweet until we meet up in the flesh (man)
keep that same energy timmy i’m at your neck (hey)
sucka dropped a diss and that sh~t was pure garbage (b00boo)
threw a few bullets my way but missed the target
seen a n~gga [?] it triggered your m~st~rbation
thought you had a hit that’s a figment of imagination
i can see it clear heroics a meth addict
probably selling ass to further his meth habit (sad story)
took a couple a shots but really it’s admiration
chasing at the clout he digging for validation
really a casket waiting triggered my aggravation
all over some plays he willing to dance with satan
idle time get you k!lled n~gga that’s facts
out your weight class that sh~t you spitting is whack
bout a buck thirty you speaking to heavyweights
295 will send you to heavens gates
we are not the same my brothers was selling rocks
timmy you’re a lame your brothers a f~cking cop
yelling blue lives matter get you crucified b~st~rd
say you was my master get you eulogized faster
you is like casper n~gga you are not a rapper
long black he~rs~ book a funeral and pastor
b~tch ass n~gga
light work man light work, bloodsport
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