bender (battle rapper) – the art of shit talking lyrics
[verse: bender]
i heard your short-term’s foggy, learn this torch burn constantly
and pure while you’re nervous and force words awkwardly and slurred
leave the stage with a scorched-earth policy
if we’re the main course first with hors d’oeuvres following
we work properly we crush grooves that rattle
sure you keep it locked but we just unscrewed the handle
sir we got that shelter up above you dismantled
my hand’ll just punch through your front tooth’s enamel
and you don’t want that, we ran through seedy bus routes, vandals
with stockcap on cam like cream of mushroom from campbell’s
f-cking herb, sn-tch ya’ time slot, f-ck you, ya’ cancelled
your fam’ll sell out once enough jewels are dangled
word, and son i can front you a handful then stand in a blood pool that comes to my ankles
i, wield mics like guns doing battle
to hand you a sentence like judge judy’s gavel
to serve i, feel like i must use example
crews bite ’cause writing’s just much too much h-ssle
one two i’m rough, never rustproof my scalpel
run through these punks knock the sun through the gravel
scuff boots on crews who got ‘nough loot to gamble
my tongue’s drew with drugs boosts and blood shoots for ammo
in bursts, that’s right you’re outta luck luciano
i bust loose and you could watch my lungs move pianos
sit and listen, ain’t gonna be no intermission
see we shredding records up like mr. dibbs and richard nixon
hear the fuzz through the crackle, kid this sh-t is rigid
i’ll keep my writtens frigid till i’m done schooling -ssh0l-s
uproot you stumps, clutch ya’ lunch too
it’s no picnic chump fools are up to nothing much and get they clique diminished but
what’s new i’m sun tzu with rhythm plus it’s touch-move ya’ done, only one rules the castle
what, mute the channel, we come through the screen with a blunt tool to mangle and snuff groups in camos with ease
so, f-ck useless babble
my team’s out for juice feel my thumb bruise your apple and squeeze
please, front like you’re a young jun’ soprano, get lumped in your jumpsuit and dumped through a manhole for free
’cause you see, we don’t pluck through them banjos, just drum loops and samples we handle the beat
[outro: bender]
yeah
peace
ben grimm
flight distance, 613
get it
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