CunninLynguists - 616 Rewind Lyrics
f/ Celph Titled, Tonedeff, Sankofa, Kashal-Tee[Tonedeff]Yo, first I sprinkle a verseBy adding words, rhymesFlippin 'em in to a verse with linesThen ima hit 'em with spurts rhymeThen ima let 'em and split 'em and addFeelin my wrathVagrantly depart to the south so dirtyYou want to be given a bathGive it a pathelogical lie to deny that i'm niceAnd the truth hurts (ow)Wearin' a blue shirt the best buy for the priceFigure, Six guys this live and nice on the micSo don't dis us because we're fly,Until you try what it's likeI'm liable to Slice at these emcee bastardsLeaving their knees fracturedNeeding every peice of their teeth re-craftedSo don't front 'cause I see past itYou're harmless like wolverines adamantium clawsYhen they're retractedThe scene's backlit,It seems static will wreack havocA beat battered, I'll keep rappin'In leech battle, will dreams shatterIn three nanoseconds (damn)Count your patients, One step to TonedeffYou're gone in sixty seconds like (?)[Deacon]I leave you riddled with basicsThere's no need for complexityTo be beside myself I need God next to meJust kiddin'I'm patially bull shittin'The only time I take a loss *****'sWhen I lose kittensI pitch shit past 'ya, no matter who's hittinI don't capsize boats,But I got crews flippin'You catch it? the message needs analisationStep and your boys will be pouring alcoholic libationsI flew sick, you knew thisI'll puzzle you, doofus***** mentalIn the stretcher went to a physical (?)It will take more than stick to rearrange it then change itHis language is so strange, how do we contain it?You can't just paint this stuff up on a canvasYou have to get the mental pictureTo begin to understand thisSo, Anticipate defeat, the league chancesGot your head speared, no lancesDoing burial dances[sankofa]I'm giving fourty like with speech imedimentsEach other threat causes confident cats to stutter,Step caught a reputation down the sides:Too raw for porn, over thugs plates of leftoversEat some warm doberThug's a jaded wordsmith,Bleeding ghost writer's pen's dryGet on other rapper's nervesCorroding dead, dryed sweatMy thoughts connect,You ought to step away fast,It seems I gave cats "hey that's the way they make tracks"Forget a scare, I'm not generous, kidSplit society of (?) and indented in (?)Independently sickAnd this is just a quick reminderIf you was to pick a cipherThen I'll bust you quick to write yoursAll expenses paid, no questions askedI'll get open in the cut and we can flesh your gashCat, relax. Man, the last time I took a breatherI got brought up on murder chargesStart the crooked finger[Kno]Yo, I'm not the fella to rifF withI'm so nice Mr. Rogers sued my assFor copyright infringementRoll with henchemen,Not, we'll switch headsFrom wanna be thugs to 24/7 ***** kidsI'll bring my shitlistProduction cat bastards want jiggy beatsFor some whack rappersSwitch my style if you're tryin' to play,My beats will maraud your ass any time of dayLike deuce Biggalow's chick,Whenever your through shitPeople see you and holler "That's one huge *****!"Shit, when the lp rolls outThe source will be forced to make the quotablesA three page fold-outNo doubt, I'm fed up with this whack shitBallin the next gear, wearing abercrombie and fitchAny Jiggy rapper acting fly on the radioIs getting pulled out of rotation like a firestone radial[Kashal Tee]Catch the Tee, the hip hop scene I fathomLet people know my windows belt keeps my jeans from saggingIt seems I'm raggin,But feinds been naggin' for my next releaseI apply all my expertise to make them extra pleasedEven get the breaks to peace that make a brother feel thisAll I do is independent, like double helixSelling out? well I hope that you're notBut how else could you afford all the soap that you drop?You cant ***** wit me, yo, kid lookTaking me out aint no small feat, you aint bigfootYou should know who the heck you're facing'cause my reputation leaves no room for speculationNow battle, is that you want to do?What kind of man are you?I bet you sit on (?)Now that it's proven to youYou got a lot to tell us,Them got your heart skipping beats like accapellas[Celph-titled]I'll be a mythic author,Writing poems on tombstonesCelph-titled and, nigga you couldn't bring homeI'm at the crib wit your ***** givin' me slow headSplit you up in more peices than when Jesus broke breadMy click is raw, be prepared when you meet usKill an unborn baby and you still couldn't de-fetus (ooh)I don't battle with rhymes,I'd rather battle with ninesInstead of using my mindI'd rather shatter your spineThe closest you ever came to a punch line,Was waiting for refreshments at the prom in '89I'm super crafty, super nasty, super rhaspy*****in' *****es with super asscheeksYou *****ing faggots don't know the wrong speechesI beat a ***** untill her whole body turns to cleavageI'm hyperactive so I drink decaffinatedMy left jab is fatal, leave your cats decapitated!
