Corrupted (Corrupt Disstrack)

pieces

(Intro)

Alright, this war

 

[Verse 1]

Got vendetta, ’bout to vent on y’all

Teach the youths and gen-beta a well-thought-of

lesson — never ever be like you

You never escape, just gotta embrace

the face of death on his way to take and collect

Mayhem everywhere, pray you ain’t waste and left

Replaced, painted flame red, erased, razed, and bled

In hip-hop mindset, step on a mine, your odds weigh against

Disgracefulness — give me my sword and dagger, we ain’t gon’ make amends

Fight me, bite your ear off like Tyson

Ignite the climate, up in degrees, global warming punishingly

Skyrocketing with the heat of my lyrical ridding spree

And know I ain’t throwing anybody except there isn’t really anybody

Who’s a threat to me — only the foolish and the timidly

And in-between who hate on me, this game’s off-key without me

Sick of you, sick of you, zip you up

Dump you in the trash, it’s tragic, still good luck

Never wished bad for you, I respected you

Had the best rhymes in the game — what did you descend into?

Are you high? Are you high? Throw you into the pit too

Last goodbye, last goodbye before you’re picked to pieces

Weakness is not allowed in my courtroom of geniuses

Fist to your face, hate that you’re awake — it’s grievous

Across the stage, I think you forgot your play

Let me jog your memory a little ’til it runs laps away from me

We ain’t friends, just enemies, I just hate you, period

Extinguish your legacy, scumbag, leave you scavenging for crumbs

With a small lonesome of money, you’re the scapegoat, please

Keep silent, boy, lost your path, used to be some bourgeois middle class

Now you’re just some stinking peasant, fleas circle around you like corrosion and death

Leave you a throwaway, go away! Leave you sunburned from solar rays

But forced to have a poker face and withstand atrocious pain

You’re just a subordinate, learn your place, you’re corrupted, you went astray

You’ll never be Pac, you’ll never be a legend

You’ll never have a six-pack or the fist of Mayweather

May I weather the storm, with a vengeance

Press your hand on the kerosene stove

You’re just leftovers of what you used to be

Now run to Puerto Rico