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lunar c – wy freestyle over angel haze “new york” instrumental lyrics

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[verse 1: lunar c]

yo, i’m running, running through the jungle
swinging with an anaconda wrapped around my knuckles
i put gorillas in headlocks, grab them in a huddle?
i spill their blood when i got them, then drown them in a puddle
how come these rappers say they won’t change
then they make a load of g-y sh-t for radio play
that’s why i hate the whole game, i ain’t saying no names
but i ain’t -ssociating with these pagans, no way
i’m on this, i know that it’s tough sometimes and i moan
it’s just a life that i chose
and you couldn’t change my mind if you put a knife to my throat
i’m undeniably dope, big up everyone supporting and f-ck your life if you don’t
my d-ck will leave a b-tch with a sore throat like she got strangled
paralysed with a p-ssy smelling of off mackerel
getting under your skin like bomb shrapnel
walking ’round with two fat joints like i’ve got cankles
you don’t know a crew that can rap this hard in britain
fly tippers in this b-tch, we be aggy, i’m just chilling
took your mother to the bedroom, but your dad just started b-tchin’
so i smashed it on the landing like a kamikaze mission
on my birthday a seance, preformed by a cover
hands in a dark room, i wasn’t born i was summoned all of the sudden
i’m just giving you a short introduction and insight into why all my thoughts are disgusting
i’m satan, any church is getting burned down
body anybody that i battled in the first round
they’re angry cause i jumped in the scene and just destroyed it
f-ck a clash; i’ve never even lost a coin flip
hah! this is a hard beat pattern
sounds like a fat b-tches -ss cheeks clapping
i’m not a rapper, i’m just good at sh-t talking
peddle bike pimping, bargain bin balling
but i ain’t f-cking with these second rate reprobates
i dead my prey before they get a chance to plan to get away
yeah, and anyone that makes it to my cellar stays
i got these backpackers hooked like leatherface
all and you up and comers go and do your homework
haters on my d-ck, but i know why they so hurt
i’m k!lling this so much i’m getting on my own nerves
dub-y bradford, make this mission covert



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