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boomshell records - cradle to the grave lyrics

[chorus]
from the cradle to the grave
from the cradle to the grave
from the cradle to the grave
from the cradle to the grave

[intro]
yeah, tragedy khadafi
boomsh+ll records

[verse 1: tragedy khadafi]
yo, yo! it’s spit lines got some amazingly beautiful
my critics try to ridicule, do more with your life, hating is pitiful
when it comes to rhymes i comprise most cynical
[?] khadafi raps elite be the pinnacle
residuals flowing at a massive amounts
what i spit is like animal house, straight out of a mammoth’s mouth
talk money but can’t even count, really what’s that about
i make galaxies, creating the illest shapes and forms
best of, tesla can’t even see the sh+t i’m on
yeah, my culture is free, kuwait, desert, vulture and me
what i rhyme like a million grams of tnt in hd
green screen and blu+ray
when i rhyme like a holy profit that’s rising out of the phallus graves
my brainwaves far surpass those from a cave
chains hang, crushed linen laced in all beige
truly amazed, my aura like an ultraviolet ray, all day
[chorus]
from the cradle to the grave
from the cradle to the grave
from the cradle to the grave
from the cradle to the grave

[verse 2: illa ghee]
huh, yeah, verbal medina
i put the medal to your medina and squeeze heater
jack of all trades, jack of spades of jack reacher
p+ssin’ in your lobby and body your known features
charismatic, mental manic depressive
a little bit obsessive, vocal settle, progressive
aggressive, single army
illa spittin’ godly, put it under photography
aim for the artery, all this minus the horror story
a lot of rappers bore me, yeah, i am poetic orgies
get a grip while the henny i sip
countin’ benjies, i’m really on some seriel k!ller sh+t
my material was drugs,. it’s militant
i thug that’s vigilant above your diligence
kamikaze type paranormal oddity
illa ghee spittin’ bars with no apologies, k!ller

[chorus]
from the cradle to the grave
from the cradle to the grave
from the cradle to the grave
from the cradle to the grave
[verse 3: canibus]
fully articulated skeletal non+human remains
it’s obvious, i make music in a cave
prototype proto+spiritual with no visuals
they put music in the physical, cold but livable
zero below zero degrees, my blood don’t freeze
volcanic activities triggered by a cold breeze
fast rope down a glass window, we our last only hope
take this cigar ’cause it’s your last smoke
organ harvest more than a promise, the canines sniffin’ my [?]
sk!ll and scarface, monolo accomplice
i confess, i spoke to the spirits, broken fingers wrote those lyrics
i’m passed out [?]
wireless off talk like i ain’t got no pulse
the camera called me chanellig thoughts, it ain’t my fault
what? back away, son, face front, i seen enough, i’m done
and so is the world, frankly, so what?
advanced flow, unmanned drones, in the garage, i’m home
i sit and write carbon monoxidem poems
dead souls in the ocean, nuclear implosion
god help us but he’s the golden child
i know it

- boomshell records lyrics

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