Aite man
This bout the umteenth track
Lets unleash the cellos on em bruh
C'mon Mecca
Go a round with the rapper turned cannibal
Godlike skill with the instincts of an animal
Helheim abilities skills from hell but Heaven sent
Ice cold flow wit a Mars colored temperament
You dudes think you rock but you
But more like venison
Chewin me out
You gon need some steel dentures in
How many ways can a rapper say he hard
As many as the multiverse award to my cause
I'm an Apex Predator personified as Jaws
And you crabby rappers food to me
Tellin tall tales
But ya bars be coming up short
Mad frail, wit no structure in yo punches
So you might as well bail
If you up against a lyrical Titan
Or get to writin till you get carpal tunnel in your left or right hand
Tryna battle, they call a brotha Mic Tyson
Have you done in the first wit one punch
Outta fight stance
Light work
Easy work
Pop ya top open like a soda can
Swiss cheese ya body while I bop and do the rover dance
Overstand the corpse
Of a greedy corporate man
We don't condone killing but direct death with an open hand
Knock ya crew back like a group of bowling pins
Strike em out, clear the floor, then we roll again
Death aficionado, no bravado can slow a pan-headed juice junkie from getting deaded
You understand?
I'm the grim reaper
The harshest teacher
You can ponder on that but the empty abyss of my soul deeper
Stiff in my actions, thoughts divided like amoebas
Break off any of the game I can get piece of
Factory farmin music stamp these cattle's with a brand
I'mma build a brand, whether cost a couple bands or a hunnid grand.
Ain't no price on my freedom
Y'all can play the rigged game, but imma beat em
These clones, imma outlast em
No need to be slave when on all my Masters
We maimin detractors
Ain't for the fame but the factors that come, good or bad, bad to worse
It put food on my platter
I be Wonka's as Gene Wilder
Spit like a twenty miler on an incliner
You attempt to reap this heat
Imma dowse ya with the cold temp flow
Or scorch you spittin fire like Bowser
King Scythe - Hor D'oeuvres Lyrics
King Scythe - Hor D'oeuvres Lyrics
Official
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English
Aite man
This bout the umteenth track
Lets unleash the cellos on em bruh
C'mon Mecca
Go a round with the rapper turned cannibal
Godlike skill with the instincts of an animal
Helheim abilities skills from hell but Heaven sent
Ice cold flow wit a Mars colored temperament
You dudes think you rock but you
But more like venison
Chewin me out
You gon need some steel dentures in
How many ways can a rapper say he hard
As many as the multiverse award to my cause
I'm an Apex Predator personified as Jaws
And you crabby rappers food to me
Tellin tall tales
But ya bars be coming up short
Mad frail, wit no structure in yo punches
So you might as well bail
If you up against a lyrical Titan
Or get to writin till you get carpal tunnel in your left or right hand
Tryna battle, they call a brotha Mic Tyson
Have you done in the first wit one punch
Outta fight stance
Light work
Easy work
Pop ya top open like a soda can
Swiss cheese ya body while I bop and do the rover dance
Overstand the corpse
Of a greedy corporate man
We don't condone killing but direct death with an open hand
Knock ya crew back like a group of bowling pins
Strike em out, clear the floor, then we roll again
Death aficionado, no bravado can slow a pan-headed juice junkie from getting deaded
You understand?
I'm the grim reaper
The harshest teacher
You can ponder on that but the empty abyss of my soul deeper
Stiff in my actions, thoughts divided like amoebas
Break off any of the game I can get piece of
Factory farmin music stamp these cattle's with a brand
I'mma build a brand, whether cost a couple bands or a hunnid grand.
Ain't no price on my freedom
Y'all can play the rigged game, but imma beat em
These clones, imma outlast em
No need to be slave when on all my Masters
We maimin detractors
Ain't for the fame but the factors that come, good or bad, bad to worse
It put food on my platter
I be Wonka's as Gene Wilder
Spit like a twenty miler on an incliner
You attempt to reap this heat
Imma dowse ya with the cold temp flow
Or scorch you spittin fire like Bowser
This bout the umteenth track
Lets unleash the cellos on em bruh
C'mon Mecca
Go a round with the rapper turned cannibal
Godlike skill with the instincts of an animal
Helheim abilities skills from hell but Heaven sent
Ice cold flow wit a Mars colored temperament
You dudes think you rock but you
But more like venison
Chewin me out
You gon need some steel dentures in
How many ways can a rapper say he hard
As many as the multiverse award to my cause
I'm an Apex Predator personified as Jaws
And you crabby rappers food to me
Tellin tall tales
But ya bars be coming up short
Mad frail, wit no structure in yo punches
So you might as well bail
If you up against a lyrical Titan
Or get to writin till you get carpal tunnel in your left or right hand
Tryna battle, they call a brotha Mic Tyson
Have you done in the first wit one punch
Outta fight stance
Light work
Easy work
Pop ya top open like a soda can
Swiss cheese ya body while I bop and do the rover dance
Overstand the corpse
Of a greedy corporate man
We don't condone killing but direct death with an open hand
Knock ya crew back like a group of bowling pins
Strike em out, clear the floor, then we roll again
Death aficionado, no bravado can slow a pan-headed juice junkie from getting deaded
You understand?
I'm the grim reaper
The harshest teacher
You can ponder on that but the empty abyss of my soul deeper
Stiff in my actions, thoughts divided like amoebas
Break off any of the game I can get piece of
Factory farmin music stamp these cattle's with a brand
I'mma build a brand, whether cost a couple bands or a hunnid grand.
Ain't no price on my freedom
Y'all can play the rigged game, but imma beat em
These clones, imma outlast em
No need to be slave when on all my Masters
We maimin detractors
Ain't for the fame but the factors that come, good or bad, bad to worse
It put food on my platter
I be Wonka's as Gene Wilder
Spit like a twenty miler on an incliner
You attempt to reap this heat
Imma dowse ya with the cold temp flow
Or scorch you spittin fire like Bowser
Writer: Derrick Brown
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid