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rod zerling - to serve man parts 6-9 the remix (take 9) lyrics

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intro:
tripping off adrenaline, dripping off the pen again
synonym of menacin down to the timberlands
the pen and i is like aquemini
identify the rhythm im kickin guys

chorus:
yo, i flip a rhyme like a dime
spitting fluid flows of new and old intertwined
in the fine weather or dead center winter time
i still will spill ill jive, yo

verse 1:
the -ss-ssins back on his raggedy rappin
to blast -ssonance with the strap and then-
stab rap in the back with meat cleaver
the ring leaders, we grease ya like some cheese pizza
lyrical combat so let’s resign from weapons
i turn microphones to m-nine-elevens
like, it’s a stick up, so you better get em up
now wave em around like you never give a buck
to any rapper, other than your truly
the unruly bully who seem to be a loose leaf
rip the instrumental, floss like dentist dental
pens or pencil is the offensive utensils

chorus:
yo, i flip a rhyme like a dime
spitting fluid flows of new and old intertwined
in the fine weather or dead center winter time
i still will spill ill jive, yo

verse 2:
ya better never blether when the don speaks
wrote this one with acid on concrete
cough on the beat cause my stuffs soundin sick
if you wanna battle grab a thousand men
call me benjamin, the bling stomping monster
hard not to spot me with this king kong-ish posture
walkin on the stage rocking raw bape
remember all caps when you spray my name
even when the game change y’all stay the same
on the mic triple h, time to play the game
hop on the track and the bag men
beat and me come together like quagland
or clevmire, we’s the sires
known to treat a beat like heat misers
he got hit by the lyrics the verse snuck on em
sniped by the rifle like were chuck connor

chorus:
yo, i flip a rhyme like a dime
spitting fluid flows of new and old intertwined
in the fine weather or dead center winter time
i still will spill ill jive, yo

verse 3:
the most bluntedest under the sun and sh-t
keep it a hundred just for all my dumbest friends
lyrical combat so let’s resign from weapons
i turn microphones to m-nine-elevens
it on the wrist with the fresh omnitrix
you can find its daubed in thick vomitspit
so many styles, the epithets ten
hold the microphone like tutankhamun
just murdered the rhythm in a few attacks
the first nerd to end up sent to super max
plans made by rats tend to end over clout
call the man, myth or legend over, out

outro:
and we flip rhymes like pennies
the one who mostly goes fo broke till the ending

in your heart tonight she reflects
that she owes you the sweetest of debts
she wants to pay



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