BUILDING BLUEPRINT
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Lyrical Analysis of...
51 Lines
- I've got so high up, that for five bucks, I can getcha knifed up,
- Or I can find shooters that'll ride up and get your life hushed!
- Bullet lawyers talk to your dread thoughts, you’re bread soft,
- Just another file in a folder that the feds got!
- Put your memory on a desktop, zipped up with the red dots,
- It goes: Head shot... Dead op. Read plots... Lead drops!
- Splitcha down the middle like a symptom in a med doc,
- You got smoked like a thread pop, watch 'em bleed 'til the bed stops!
- I foresee you permanently asleep, no holding back,
- Like fiends with a loaded glass, folding maps in a stolen track!
- Caught you slipping, cleaning out your Rover’s back,
- Now you’re rolled up and folded in broken halves!
- Throw like a shoulder pad, collapsed meat, snapped spleens,
- As soon as they blast heat, your soul collapses in cracked scenes!
- You got smoked like a soldier’s pack, a colder fact,
- And no one in your fam’s ever getting over that!
- They’ll clap three to leave you ghosted in your dad’s Jeep,
- Half screamed, let the blood leak out the cracked seats!
- Those who oppose me act strapped, but actually,
- They haven't tracked the mastery or even loaded a mag properly!
- You haven't seen a gat, you just dream of that,
- I’m the scheme of the stat, leaving your genes on the mat!
- The Aftermath is calculated, the Lead Plot is locked,
- I’m the First and the Final... while the Dead Op is dropped
- Let a nine bust 'til all the singing stops,
- This vessel is vicious, I’m really the King of Pop.
- I finna fire it, let the burner sing with a pilot's reach,
- You ain't a pilot, but you earn your wings on this silent beach.
- I’ve got a silencer on it, the nine no hablo,
- The dude'll be messy when he drops like "The Life of Pablo"!
- If he takes shots and steps to a boss, I must flashback,
- Like an episode of Lost, leave his chest black and his ash back!
- That red'll spill like plagues foretold by preachers,
- When I put that metal to his grill and give him Paul Wall features
- The chrome spark like I’m on a shooting spree,
- So many shells eat, I hope he ain't gluten free!
- Rubbing me the wrong way, you have a death wish,
- I’m not a genie in a bottle, but I’ll leave him breathless!
- My punches will have all lost in orbit,
- How can a dude with no balls take shots? He ain't Boston Corbett!
- I advise don’t front as if you’re way ahead of me,
- With the lesser pedigree, I’ll abuse you like ecstasy!
- Bust magnums unexpected pregnancy, keeping all grounded is my specialty and my legacy!
- Witness and listen, this is a classic beat down, technique renown... like iCloud getting hacked when my techs (texts) leak out!
- Get riddled with pistols, bullets are thick bristles,
- Until the tip sizzles like you got hit with six missiles!
- It’s Ragnarok—I fracture the calendar and the chronology,
- A prestigious prime dissolving your hollow topology!
- Put so many holes in whoever, whenever the wind blows,
- Your spirit is hollow... and all of your ish'll whistle.
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