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bertomac – savage sound lyrics

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[intro: b3rt0mac]
yeah, yeah
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

[verse 1: aye gee]
ima wordsmith, ima wordsmith
tossing bars in the furnace, in the furnace
took ’em out and spit ’em out
and if i k!ll it for a minute, then it’s raining out, it’s raining out
used to carry umbrellas now i carry pringles now (pringles now)
cuz i’m snacking on you b-st-rds, k!ll you all in pitter- pattern
put it in a song and name it laughter
cuz if i’m blastin a mumble rapper
i’d make sure to do it with words and spit it faster
than a rap god’s ever mastered and humiliate these -ssholes
for the whole world to see
be the death of a genre and a dream complete
be the death of a genre and a dream for me

[verse 2: b3rt0mac]
yeah
already got our pants sagging so the white man take advantage
of our -sses, culture vultures wreaking havoc
that’s what’s happening everyday
saving grace, fame just a taste
i’ma wait for the second coming, judgement day
bring your onions, sore throat, robitussin
records companies hustlin deals
if you mumble, spin the wheel
now let’s be clear, that’s what’s real
don’t feed me, imma steal
sellout for a happy meal, that’s how i feel
yeah, yeah
kneel down to the most high, don’t act surprised
when you die, feelings traumatized
see the truth thru ya eyes, earthly riches just a lullaby
systematically placed here
children raised and lives wasted here
ghetto businesses, the corner
ops got they arms in a holster
all comes to an end when they aim and roast ya
had no chance but to raise ya seed
selling rock in the street
nothing but brothers filling up penitentiaries
real o.g’s been buried in our cemeteries
no matter how many hail marys

[ch-r-s: aye gee]
ima wordsmith, ima wordsmith
tossing bars in the furnace, in the furnace
(woo, woo)
ima wordsmith, ima wordsmith
tossing bars in the furnace, in the furnace

[verse 3: aye gee]
ya’ll catching the chords, i’m king of the swords
imagine me driving in porsches, winning awards
handing out corpses, spitting bars
all out on the porches
fantasies turnt, reality course it’s
nothing but fatalities hidden by doors
instead of what you took it for
which would be like a 4×4 to the dang skull
ya’ll revving me up like a chainsaw
might just pull up at ya house like i’m santa
cause i’m full of ya shit like a canned jar of tomato sauce
and i can’t stop and i won’t stop
ain’t have no sense in my brain or pockets
i came up in here writing school projects
just pray that ya boy keep the jewels poppin (poppin, poppin)
yeah uh, yeah, yeah
savage sound!

[ch-r-s 2: aye gee]
ima wordsmith, ima wordsmith
tossing bars in the furnace, in the furnace
(woo, woo)
ima wordsmith, ima wordsmith
tossing bars in the furnace, in the furnace

[outro: b3rt0mac]
that’s it