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funkoars – boxbeaters lyrics

[verse 1: sesta]
i wrote this [?] as a battle rap
but you’ll never catch me rappin’ about the biblical couches, but
here’s a revelation for your patience
catch me lover [?] and they’ll be like “f-ck gradin'”
nah, i’m about to hit mitus status
i still blew the pieces in the presence of my absence
it’s simple sesta and i say that i’ll be knowin’ that
we stand out like [?] stickers in a packet of clothes
my lyrics are never comin’ with riddles
i [?] dribble, it’s funkoars, keepin’ it simple
and, as for politics, well, f-cks are given
like trucks are driven as any [?]
to an mc who place an order
name a girl who gives mad head well: sketchy hons’ daughter
ain’t droppin’ half a bar when i leave you mortified
’cause your raps are so wack that you get tangled in the corners, like

[verse 2: trials]
i got this habit of wreckin’ rappers
takin’ ’em off tracks with the force of their l carriages
twist ’em up, you might get flipped up
and f-ck suicide, you’re off tryna diss us
you spit a ring to trials though
that’s like walkin’ a tightrope over thin ice bro
[?] and you get stunned quick
we make sh-t look easy like scorin’ on drunk chicks
these jumped kids gettin’ severed and split
when the funk spits only speakers up will try and bump this
no joke, i provoke the dope
for even thinkin’ about tryna test my flow
this fat fella cooked the flex on a rapper
modern day sick c-nt, you ain’t sh-t
when i rip up, crews seem to be no use
like dyslexic [?] eating alphabet soup

[turntablism: dj reflux]
“soft–rappers” “get lost”
“soft–rappers” “drop the ego”
“soft–rappers–rappers”
“this might be [?]”
“soft–rappers” “amateurs”
“soft–rappers” “drop the ego”
“soft–rappers–rappers”
“step off my profession”

[verse 3: sesta]
you’re just an ordinary [?] snorting wizz-fizz
droppin’ more names than abortion, clear this kid
of this planet when his parents couldn’t have him
i’ll play games like [?]
with these chemical weapons that i’m developin’
‘oars f-ckin’ up a generation just like metal did
two thousand and three, plus it’s watered down
the dam is open and now it’s floodin’ the town
with this dry humour, i’m soakin’ up these maggots
treatin’ us like crack habits like they gotta have it
you think your style is new? ruthless?
that sh-t’s like s-x with a bimbo–f-cking stupid
ignore the warnings and attack the funkoars
we close to [?] rap sections in record stores
with beats so phat the cd needs [?]
you write those lyrics to fit with tight flows

[verse 4: trials]
gonna get precise on the mic like counterfeiters
i’m bound to split chicken sh-ts with astoundin’ writtens
four bars in, ahead of my time
till i [?] openin’ line’s a quotable rhyme
takin’ back what you said like [?]
my style’s off limits like feelin’ up strippers
and if so, i’ll flip a flow like gymnasts
without a kid or gift for physical fitness
you see? i flow doper than most
“i’m scared of one rapper whose foe’s name is no man”
you toys are wack and that’s the plain truth
f-ck sharin’ a track, i wouldn’t share the same booth
feel alive and you think that you can rip me
before you touch the mic kid, put down your mother’s t-tties
simply, can’t touch the verse
and f-ck steppin’ to a battle f-ggot, fix your skirt

[outro: sample]
you better get [?] i’m tellin’ you that’s a lot of money
you can make a lot of money

- funkoars lyrics

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