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baby shel - rez rap phantom lyrics

“rez rap phantom”

[verse one:]
rez rapping adapting
my action asking the mainstream
the main things
and i want a mansion
so i
crept up to mess up
the best up, so rest up
your vocals fess up
you weak and faker than
the mother f-cken dress up
the next up to check the
swaggadelic rap i need a medic
to patch up the blood
from gushing all over from sinning
whoop ticking i’m sicker than
septic tanks and shook critics
who talk sh-tty
i’m with a gang of souls
mangle over breaking bones
focus on the task
and slaying foes over major dough
it’s over froze i overdose
on poles of dope
my ears are sick of this
get it clear i’m sick as sh-t
so listen when i kick it
hit and make it flip until ridiculous
i grip the mic with wickedness
you get it b-tch well
keep up on the mean key
keep up, with a mean streak, sweeper
the rap fiend’s preacher
the rap game’s grim reaper
mixed with a mind
like charlie manson
its the
it’s the mother f-cken phantom

[chorus:]
rez rapping, rapping
rez rapping, rapping
rez rapping, rapping
it’s the mother f-cken phantom
rez rapping, rapping
rez rapping, rapping
rez rapping, rapping
put your mother f-cken hands up
rez rapping, rapping
rez rapping, rapping
rez rapping, rapping
i said put your f-cken hands up
rez rapping, rapping
rez rapping, rapping
rez rapping, rapping
it’s the mother f-cken phantom

[verse two:]
it’s the rez rap phantom
back after the actors
talking backwards it matters to me
to fully master
my talents of balance
and damage average minding b-st-rds
faster to stop the chatter between critics
who don’t really seem to get it
that i’m winning never giving up
whip it up and fill a cup
when i bust i k!ll a c-nt
rapping as purist
rapping words faster
you got to work hard
to bite the word
that you’re hearing
you can feel it in the back of your mind
you fearing it’s possible
that i got you
captured in rhyme
i’m after your prime
time after time
i find the signs
to unwind simplicity
risking whipping the rookies
and half necking history
its the beats
miss demeanor my demeanor
ripley believe it or not
i’m bout to ge-ge-get it
and sweep it of its dignity
smoking like a chimney
mr. maker mix a talka
in the back of the impala
i’m out of my mind
never out of the rhymes
i’m somewhere out on the grind
it’s the mother, f-cken, phantom

- baby shel lyrics

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