lirik lagu sicknature
(verse 1)
i start to emerge, stick with the words
(?) burst
don’t call me on nerves
i destroy and rebuild like a bomb in reverse
cons are disturbed, perverts ruling the entertainment business
on some suicidal sh-t like dracula hogging a church
people are zombies, (?) and teeth with anonymous mystique in the body
i’m pleased with the hobby
eager to copy anyone, and pop up in a video
waiting for a ceo, ask to pop up under the mistletoe
that ain’t propert, it’s one of us destroying backwards
i’m recognizable like fap fab freddy minus his sungl-sses, yo
you acting like fluffle, sucking d-ck by half of them f-ckers
it’s been a wrap, start packing your luggage
wouldn’t f-ck with you gabinus puppets if you p-ssed me a package of (rubber?)
trying to be something you’re not like a f-ggot with nuggers
selling your soul for the figuers to focus the glitter
next time you motherf-ckers open your sh-tter you going…
(verse 2)
the recording industry could welcome you the same stuff, and sell you with “the fame touch”
and thus, welcome to the brainwash
where they’re rushing their show, cause they no longer listen
while im folding the rhymth, they controlling the system
all of these fat -ss crackers and talk cracking me up, you rappers all suck
cuckold emcees havin the luck, but half you nuts jumping black and you’re barely havin’ em’ coughed
then send them back to the block if they don’t happen enough
they suplying the editing rhymes, to sign in every release
suprisingly sound prominent on cd’s
dominantely the illusionize in the sneak peaks
but i will survive
even when i die, i’ll still be rhyming through your ouija
and no editing beyond, f-ck your editing
medicin, lesson is learned when setting the alarm
clock’s a rude awakening, dudes can fake a mess
but when you lose, and knock your booth without computers you can make it then, you going…
(verse 3)
this sh-t is demonized, people are reaching minds
tell it to keep a line over while they’re trying to keep a dream alive
he gon’ rhyme, you really need some spine, insted of acting like some f-cking rich b-tch with sharper (?) do-drive
it’s all about the clothes in this bis, “homie you rich, cause homie can spit his loneliest chromas on switch”
don’t make me start it, look in his million dollar market
guys turned b-tches to walk a period colored carpet
even broke rappers is biting, from the clothing, for the flows, thinking they going, could grow, man doubting
i’m counting sheep with ya’ll, throwback counting
50% of ya’ll are b-tches, the other half meeting at brokeback mountain
look, your bars loaded with boggers, ya’ll don’t need barcodes
you just show wardrobe where your clothes is
just hope that you noticed, your clothes ain’t controlling your raps, sh-t’s blowing the math
next time you open your trap, you go…
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