BUILDING BLUEPRINT
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Lyrical Analysis of...
Realz - Microphone Merkers Ft. - Fatality
- Realz Verse 1
- Does heaven exist where you live?
- I love it when there is a twist
- but this isn't edited it's the truest shit.
- I spit like medicine but I'm super sick.
- Where are you heading? Like Uber you trip.
- Broke my back like its Dolphin gymnastics.
- I'm really like Gollum from the Lord of the rings on a crack binge
- and this city's like Gotham with the lord of the crims and bat wings.
- I've clinically lost it like I was in thought, blasting clicks,
- I cock back like a dick massage
- onto the sly fox I got past him slipping by the guards.
- Kicking bars like it's long jump.
- What the fuck is up? Fuck the police
- cos they're never gonna understand me
- Or what it's like to be judged from a criminals element,
- not unless they're running in our shoes with a bundle of evidence.
- Guns in our boots, methamphetamine and cheddar cheese.
- My precious street kids shine brighter than their badges
- when their flashing them attention grabbing.
- It's Reality featuring Fatality. Fuck a player I'm a bar slayer.
- My blood's racing and hard labouring is in my personification.
- Fatality Verse 2
- I will clutch my wrist to your neck
- force you to splurge out heaps of blood and vomit,
- that grows under my skin, it's infectious, atomic vomit
- I rhyme at speeds so supersonic, that they make you blast into fuckin Jupiter
- Without NASA'S Rockets,
- for the emcees i'm commencing nine eleven with these rhyming rockets
- I'll yank out your fuckin Ear Sockets,
- You'll be needing Some crucial Hearing Aids
- It'll last more than 50 fuckin decades,
- I'm a Patronizing, Venomizing Snake,
- I don't hesitate while causing Earthquakes,
- Tornadoes, Nuclear Grenades and visceral hurricanes!
- preventing yall from reforming, my hurricanes we be storming,
- And corpses lay with storming rain on a morning day and I'm surely baked
- Let me get this straight,
- We both teenagers with the same mind state,
- We can generate illuminating lyrics,
- We ain't horrific, like look at our statistics,
- According to statistics I'll fuck you up worse than Jeffery Dahmer with a sharp thermometer
- Me and Real Z can cause sudden extreme thunder,
- We gutter these Motha Fuckas Predators undercover,
- Wait up Horny Hoe, Real Z got more suffer,
- Which will leave this fucking decade without summer!
- (7th track from the album "Debris of emotions.")
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