lirik lagu passionate mc - 60 days & 60 nights
[hook]
40 days wasn’t enough, so i made it sixty
walk with me, for the art i spark quickly
the dark’s in me, but i’m bringing the light
1000 bars per hour, 60 days, 60 nights
[verse 1]
the p-ssions is rapidly fathoming, battling, shattering rappers accurately
carefully crafting tragedy
sike! 60 lines when i get on the mic/mike
as if it were comedy night with jordan and myers up in the spotlight
give a f-ck if you ball or k!ll
i’ll roast you and turn foreman into a four-man grill
f-ck your clique, i’m coming up with something sick
i could feed you a roll of film and you still wouldn’t dump a clip
or take a shot, even if i gave you glocks
marked my face and commanded you to blaze the spot
for the reward of an asian doc
with the seringe and the cure to make the process of aging stop
the cage unlocked, i’m finally free
if you couldn’t stomach the truth why’d you swallow the key?
methaphorically i rip through flesh, kleenex
cottonelle, human, like what the h-ll kind of tissues next
so genetically enhanced to advance
i could beat lance in tour de france
without the use of a suderiferous glands for sweat bands
improving superhuman by the hour after consuming nuclear power plants
vegetarian style
forget books, i was checking female librarians out
when styduing the anatomy of a woman so gallantly
proving scientifically how being sweet gave you a v-g-n-l cavity
p-ssion, the verses he’s spitting
will have you wishing that you had your verses re-written
i’ll slaughter everyone of you lyricists
including myself after i’m finished with my albums guest appearances
flowing flawlessly, virtuosically composing atrocity
more musically haunting than a betehovan, vivaldi
and mendelssohn bartholdy born with cerebral palsy
the kapellmeister outnumbering million man armies
send me down to h-ll for all the souls that i’ve stripped
i’ll bring more arms to the pit than mike vick and deodorant sticks
i’m that nice
sick enough to charge photographers with indecent exposure just for flashing lights
and it gets worse
i battle myself in the mirror just to find out which one of us will quit first
f-ck an open mic, f-ck the reward
f-ck a contest and f-ck whatever b-tch doesn’t applaud
f-ck everybody, f-ck the judge
f-ck whoever’s hating and f-ck whoever’s forgetting to show love
when the show’s done i’m taking life out the room
by asphixiation for my own creation of the ”house of blues”
get it? i’m the sickest when i spit it
p-ssing off witnesses like a child molester who was aquitted
after physical evidence proved that he did it
but the judge’s ”defense mechanism’s” forced the forgiveness
60 bars of total sickness, you won’t forget this
i’m putting every wack mc alive on my sh-t list
verbally vicious at explosive rates
i’m calling out every rapper in the ocean state
you got bars? i’ll battle you and shatter you
with grammatical lines till your verictal spine is latteral
f-ck guns, all i need is one round
so i can toss it in the air and throw you at it faster than the speed of sound
don’t speak unless it’s silently
cause i’ve ripped apart mohaganny trees for thinking they could bark at me
mother nature’s a mockery saying ” she hails no one”
till i flowed so cold her reign/rain was frozen
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