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ruse (rap) - mustangs and bloodstains lyrics

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uh, mustangs and bloodstains. some say that i must change
collect the complaints then forget what them sl-ts say
cause it’d be mundane if i was held to a constraint
i’m unchained and runnin up on whoever the f— runs the game
so what’s the name? ruse, just touchin base
on what i can do with this music, boastin over bumpin b-ss
beat buffet, i’m stuffin face. eat em all up, i’m somethin great
beat em all up, leavin puzzled faces like, “uh, wait, what’s the race?”
white, imma cut to the chase. flow’s tight with a perfect pace
like puzzle pieces, the words fit right. writin with an urgent case
to strike lightenin in a person. raisin might, lightin fires with haste
may be vain but i’m certain, imma ignite a light. writin writtens purer than a virgin
a purist emergin from a curtain, a lyricist lurkin
workin his wordsmith urges, urkin rappers with putrid verses
purgin these stupid curses we’re cursed with who are doin disservice
to the public conscience, it’s nonsense. onset’s just skewed the surface
it’ll stop when it’s served it’s purpose or worse in a he-rs- when
god comes to cue the curtains or allah comes through with virgins
cue the allusions, a man with mega blood stains
in the back of a he-rs-, dead, led by a mustang
i must say, i’m gifted
cause gimme a mic and my mood is lifted
cause i’m different. yeah, i’m different
but gimme a mic and i’ll rid of resentment
rippin a flow, itchin for yo contentment
kick it, sit and zone, and commend its commencement
committed to the commission of yo attention
the affirmentioned mission, emmisions mended for mention so
don’t omit it for it is oh so ambitious
recommendin flow admission so listen
i’m resurrectin dope, representin hope, hopin for
an exceptive reception. don’t set the bar low
there are no exceptions
your best is best expected. expended effort
for acceptance. the present of a presence is
present if you press and present pleasance
ces says life is all perception so stress is
made by a negative mindset. your senses
set up the blessin that’s life, blemished
by the pessimistic conception some might have
have a mic, a jagged knife. slicin as i’m rappin tight
stabbin right smack dab in em, a dagger made of m-ssive might
might i add, i’m at a height. maximize and i’ll p-ss it by
mustangs and bloodstains, an alibi to pacify
i must say, i’m addicted
to this mic and everything i do with it
i’m addicted, a little bit different
just gimme a mic and wait till the beat kicks in
i’m on a discreet mission and in commission. these mittens
can slaughter a beat. writtens will fall to my feet quick when
they’re callin for me to k!ll it. all in, believe i’m committed
enthralled by the heat, grillin, the feelin i get when i’m in it
i’m awesome when i reach for the ceilin. the flow leaks and it’s spillin
so freakin ill, silly to believe i’m sk!lless. if you’re
black as a sk!llet, i’ll speed up to sustain
your bloodstain on the windshield of a mustang



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