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theory2 - the butcher lyrics

[verse: theory]

ok it’s t-h-e-o-r-y u frontin?
burnin up rappers and pullin rhymes out the oven
it’s too real and i ain’t the one so you can do the math
i’m on point with the joints and the buddha hash
tasmanian, half animal half alien
used to run the desert with swords and black arabians
now i count cash and spit game to roosters
see me in the lane i’m ducked down and boosted
thought they had me f-cked up now they want truces
everything’s official and this tracks exclusive
the butcher, the barber, the five star stayer
the shooter, the carver, the rhymes got flavor
so why you in my grill you two toned and basic
watch me get ill you might need some lasik
the surgeon, radio k!ller without the glove on
bullets on the same table that i got the gun on
so you could get ya dome popped off without a reason
flows like nazareth shouts out to jesus
got the beat from alchemist never dropped the beakers
you can hear my demons bleedin out through the speakers
holy grail hacker that grip mics, the python
all up in ya nightmares you prolly got the light on
the punisher, here to terminate em like the governor
you lovin her, i give her back shots like a m-ffler
so you can pull ya covers up, pray that i ain’t under ya
doper than the c0ke on the boat from colombia
hold it like the rope on ya throat while i’m cuttin ya
strings on my fingers i’m the master of puppets
i make em lay down for thinkin this rap sh-ts a playground
welcome to the jungle, try to find your way out
the hunter, the hunted, the hungry, the wanted
the suffer, the money, the tougher, the blunted
it’s all a big illusion and i’m stuck in a trap
when i drop it on a beat there’s nothin f-ckin with that
so bring ya army, your navy, the general too
i ain’t doin the same things a gentleman do
i’m kickin knowledge, call me the professor of solace
how you gon act like the rhymes ain’t polished
how you gon act like ya sk!lls got mileage
b-tch i graduated from rap monster college
five ways to friday that -ss’ll get tossed
i’m doin what the f-ck i wanna while you askin the boss
it’s all profit, and everything i say is a promise
philosophers’ll keep the rhymes right with nostradamus
you silly to us, i need a million bucks
f-ck around and ima turn ya whole city to dust
the fallen angel, the seventh son, the misdemeanor
the let me introduce you to the yea it’s nice to meet ya
the criminal, the guess i’m just a vivid individual
the visual, the call him in its time to just get rid of you
original, foldin any word like origami
i’m grimy, look around ya house you’ll prolly find me
i’m creepin, so when i find somethin ima keep it
i’m beastin, why they tryna keep me on the leashes
it’s f-cked up, guess i’m gettin fed up now
ima dump the body here and leave ya head up town
it’s all elaborate, read the blueprint and then imagined it
ripped it up in pieces made my own and then i managed it
savages, get us on the mic we just damage it
handlin’, any emcee who wanna challenge it
i’m balancin’, see me on a tight rope wit no shoes
i could crush a stadium or k!ll em with the pro tools
the morphine, the crack rock, the one who changed the labels
the protein, the wack job, the highly unstable
sick of all these f-ggets turnin up on the weekend
bout to rip the swimmies off and toss em in the deep end
you cuttin up bags in the trap with the pusher
i’m cuttin up slabs in the back i’m the butcher

- theory2 lyrics

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