tunnel rats - southern brutality lyrics
[verse 1: dok-ment]
yo i got probable caution
suspect you of probable flaws
to protect your plausible loss
i expect your possible pause
and because of that, my attack cause damage [?]
just the facts is stopping action, your life is crackin’ for sure
now i got things on my mind, twelve years of rhyming combined
subjects of all kind, twelve years in the grind
running routes no doubt inclined
never fell behind, never was signed
never out of contention, never confined
never mentioned the way my tension unwinds
i been through the stages ready [?] show
who got dough? i been through
compadre or foe, i still gots to quench you
when it’s done, your madre won’t cleanse you
you’ll pray for god to ascend you
your crew can’t defend you
ain’t got a chance but still pretend to
i recommend you watch where you lean when you dream
cause it’s what’s not seen that puts an end to your scene
that’s me, i’m here when you breathe
i only care how you leave
when you came in, i was aiming, now you’re changing beliefs
[verse 2: reconcile]
oh man, it’s a state of emergency
peep what occurred to me when i heard this beat
turned into freak, now it resounds abound [?]
from the underground, burning the streets
rhythmic apostle [?] molding these fakes into fossils
colossal, hostile with the wordplay
do whatever it is the word say
coming from the m-a double s to the reality
test, you will end up in trouble
rep christ blatant not subtle
life is a ministry burst [?] bubbles
the underground infantry
see change wherever we go
leave fame red dot need you, n-body’s equal
reclaim [?] to the people, peep through the peephole
keep to the mission that we know
[verse 3: neogen]
easily putting it down for the cause
still speak life even though i got flaws
victorious never counting the loss
notorious for causing lockjaw
got cats bugging out at the awe of the raw
sk!ll displayed in the midst of the real
express truths to influence youth going down the right path
man, i still got one question to ask:
in reality how many people wanna run up on a mast?
graduated top of the cl-ss
got a master’s in [?] we all last
all enemies fall off
words penetrate like the force of a double-barreled sawed-off
thrown like a c-cktail molotov
plans to retaliate, might as well be called off
[verse 4: lazarus]
in my tote bag, i carry a notepad with a broken vocab
packing it like a nomad, steadily rocking a low sag
with timbs loosely laced in sundried
oversized hoodie placed over head with a red head tie
to get by, i had to put aside my sky high lean
sn-tched out of my sleep at 6:19
man, it was a fine dream i was in
dreaming that i was in my own benz
balled out sick on chrome rims cruisin’
i was independent using, my own ends choosing
my own was translucent, my problem’s cooling
and then that truth bust through
because the train was moving
that i was an iron cowboy riding a martyr
thirty minutes of fame writing like a fire starter
at nine i was a work, same pay though i’m working harder
than the next man, part of it my neck tan darker
i’m all browned out running that 40 hour route
funny how money running out cause tax is a hungry mouth to feed
my last resort might be to sell or smoke weed
[verse 5: ??]
got a way with words, captivate
spectators when i play with words
spit flames what’s to nouns to verbs
bringing the heat
beat up the beat ’til it’s crying about how it hurts
gotta fulfill the urge to k!ll
best build the sk!ll to be the real
never mind [?] but it’s all the deal
stay sharp, cause i polish my seal
man, i’m violently ill
coming up had plans to blow
screaming fans, a man ammo
feeling like a kid in a candy sto’
[?] tray blows, get the man below
with the cats who can’t stand my flow
but the facts remain, ain’t about me and my name
the props or the fame, the bills and the chain
the plant in the fame, it’s all vain
if i ain’t true to myself and the god that i claim
[verse 6: propaganda]
you can’t make a lyrical omelet
without cracking a couple eggheads
it lead to severing sets of dreads
eyes wide when laid in bed
weigh the evidence, see [?] flow commence with selah
heard them brothers say-a “oh jah, oh jah”
give us some poetry but don’t be overly avant-garde
barely invited to barbecue backyard
won’t argue with you if you find a better represented than this
hidden virtue mysterious, revolutionists
see i don’t wanna rap about the same stuff everybody rap about
thinking, why you open your big mouth again?
attempt to put page to pen, thought to book
rhyme to hook and look at the clique that the rap rhyme sick
it’s mr. propaganda slam a rapper, move a nation
brothers bail, flow in jail, i’m that life emanc-p-tion
ultimate weirdo, hear flow, wondering where’d your ear go
here go the last with ’em
give ’em worship-god-isms
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