rogue science - posse cut lyrics
[verse 1: el jefe]
+el jefe!+
choppin’ up the posse track
all facts no fears rogue scholar rap
on attack, shout it out in all caps
ready for the combat, ammo with the gun strap +yo yo yo+
words that i spray rearrange your brain matter
end of the day, we decay the same no matter
fame or what you gained or paid or trade don’t matter
+rat tat tat+ crowds scatter in predictable patterns
i get specific, f+ck these wishy washy goldilocks thots
stole the keys to the game i’m changing all the locks
cream of the crop, on top, every verse that i drop
clean pop ya head off, rock ’em sock ’em robots
in this game i don’t ask much of rappers
just stand back so i can ash the dutch masters
man of many ways tap circular frames
no game lame brain cats thinkin’ the same
so cold with the flow like i.c.e
emcees no degrees still ivy league
enemies freeze pay the p.r.i.c.e
face me put ’em in the e.r. on ivs
silly grin on my face when i see green
smoke trees my preferred v.i.c.e
c’est la vie in the park spark wasabi
in the weeds see beginnings of infinity +yo yo yo brrattt+
find words that can turn on a dime
these curves in the turbulent rhyme
leave a mark of a permanent kind on curious minds
i’m sure you will find these designs of mine absurdly divine
[verse 2: uknow]
+uknow!+
they got me gassed up nikko. sent the beat
you know that i couldn’t pass up
when i’m on the streets only catching me with my mask up
mad blunts in the rotation we talking asthma
blue face what the crew takes
in a new wave coming through with the bolt
f+cking usain (f+ck are you saying)
toupee, coming off the top gunning for the guap
that’s a lot money on the block
i remember when i used to have free time
enemies find in the mean time
split the dutch hit the rewind
in the meantime enemies find all the free time
split the dutch hit it three times
imma be fine imma do me
from the ’91 feelin’ mighty
came from ops now i’m f+ckin’ it
stompin’ down on my f+ckin’ nikes
she had the nerve to ask me where have you been
chillin’ at the crib practicing my hadouken
she said “how could the teacher become the student?”
it’s all a matter of +n+lyzing the movement
i’m f+cking flattered i’m satirizing the lucid
aiming at ted nugent f+ck the american dream
rather do something stupid
talkin that sh+t prove it sound like i spit toothless
all of sh+t ruthless catch me on some new sh+t
i got the bow imma rap (wrap) it up
i’ve had enough i’m back and i’m mad as f+ck
you wack as f+ck, homie please pack it up
the mac is in the back of the acura
[verse 3: chefboyrg]
+chef!+
p+wn to d4 i move with gambits like x+men
my crew move silent to the top, clandestine
i’m done resting besting you rappers is getting easy
switch flow like breezes beast modes complete
and i’m feasting on beats that my boys are sending
finesse with pen grips, weeds out pretenders
best get your pension, retire from this rap sh+t
your mentions won’t get your traction past this
fake passion actors ain’t fooling no one
best check your sword sk!lls before you test the shogun
no punch pulled, with every line i take a jab
sometimes i get straight to the hook
before i get back and find the center
i try to enter, the flow the zone i know responsible
for those moments i hold close that i showed the most sk!ll
at a time writing rhymes or on a dime
like freestyle, i’m free now, not worried bout the next one
just finally taking steps to where the f+ck i’m getting
i never will leave this rap sh+t behind me
i’m binded by the time i put into rhyme schemes, it’s frightening
man imma live forever through words i craft together
see imma make an impression pressing pen to paper
vapor escapes the chambers of my brain
what remains, appears as precipitation
i paint with words i smith, and will on paper
i’m not jaded, i’m fated, to change with the music i make
so don’t break just cause you can’t keep up with my pace
it’s the chef
[verse 4: nikko.]
i’m!
raising the stakes, preparing a plate
for enemies to dine with me but i’m saving the grace
sharing the pain, menace to society mind state
one swell in my cerebellum elevating the crime rate
y’all couldn’t hold weight, one thought and your spine break
every time i’m droppin’ knowledge the ground shake
ya blind faith will take you through the gates of this rap game
till they bending you over, asking you how this cash taste
we on different sides of the schism
a coping mechanism can quickly become a prison
listen, pay attention to exactly what you grippin’ on
cuz when you’re dead and gone
it ain’t the money you’ll be sleeping on
aiming for my throat? homie you reachin’
speaking life with a golden tongue homie i’m preaching
i’m king david with a rifle and it’s hunting season
so everybody claiming giants better duck and weave
i’m coming for ya, never from round the corner
walking up right in front of ya aimin’ above the shoulders
hold up never fold up, competition get torn up
let the coroner show up to late to get ’em sewn up
you gone learn how to respect this culture
even if it means beating these kids into a coma
ain’t no positive vibes when i’m touching this mic
every rapper get sliced, stepping outta ya speakers like poltergeist
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