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kyd t.e.r.r.o.r. - sixteen-bar massacre lyrics

[verse 1]
and i step into the booth, ready to spit the truth
like i’ve many a loose tooth, not too bad for a youth
so here’s the d-mn proof, that you cannot sooth
the f-cking beast who has been released, it’s about to be a feast
searching for mcs who’re about to be deceased
as my sk!ll increases lyrically, i spit so prodigiously
typically, you’re not even on the same level as me
you think you’re better than me? enough of the d-mn prattle
your battle with me was a recipe for disaster
i’m the young flow master with rhymes that spit faster
so better pray to your pastor before you face disaster, you b-st-rd
cause i got the flow, rhymes, and metaphors mastered
with the sword in my hand, i k!ll you right where you stand
and take your b-tch for a one night stand
or better yet, two actually
my swag is dressed casually
check the rhyme strategy, cause this is pure savagery

[hook]
all you lames think about the money ya’ll make
but if you look at it this way, your n-ggas are all fake
so please retire for my sake, and leave the sh-t i’m ’bout to take
while i begin smashin ya, it’s the sixteen-bar m-ssacre

catch me in the booth, or your girl in my bedroom
while you hear the bed squeaking as i ride her going ‘vroom’
oh, you said you wanted some? hold up, son, i ain’t even done
smashing her, she know about the sixteen-bar m-ssacre

[verse 2]
flow so ninja, got you disappearin in a puff of smoke/
no other n-gga can compete with the sick rhymes i wrote/
last night, that’s right, i’m the f–kin black knight/
i’m the next b.i.g., smoke the mic like a crack pipe/
except i don’t get shot, my flow’s too hot/
and you’re not, what the blood clot? n-gga, i got a lot/
of pot, but i don’t smoke though/
it’s no joke, my flow so cold like sub-zero/
shoot your -ss for the dinero/
ya’ll f–kin laughed at me, that’s when i go carrie (carry)/
your dead bodies to the graveyard, and that’s where you’re buried/
yeah, i’m so f–kin scary, i might just f–kin marry/
frankenstein’s bride, by my side, and pop her f–kin cherry/
b-ss, drum, snare, hi-hats, and the melody/
composition of beats is like i’m committing felonies/
all you lames can’t overcome your jealousy/
of me, cause ya’ll some singers like fiona, melanie/

- kyd t e r r o r lyrics

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