Murdered Ink

Spit the hottest phrases leave MCs discombobulated

The legend left a severed head drippin on the pavement

Made egos shrink with what was written on the pages

If I dissed you the track would be a hit that’s on ya playlist

Now let’s get to choppin fables might wanna run now

Cause when push comes to shove you gettin knocked the fuck out

Fuck the game and it’s rules I came here to lose

Even as my name is engraved in the tomb

Got a knot in my throat in the shape of a noose

Tippi Hedren in The Birds, I’m flames in the booth

To the grave I’ll be laughin, bumpin Wu-Tang

The game watered down so I’m splashin on the new wave

 

I endorse eleven levels of devil worship

And horse abortions, flawless extortion is awesome

Get on the floor son, this gun is big enough to make you shit your drawers

I'll piss in your sores, draw four fours if you tick me off

Even the Baphomet tells me that I'm a class act

When I snap back, prepare to be laughed at

You're just a half ass, and that's just a wack fact

Take a crack at it, but you just a slack faggot

I'm as ill as can be, a literal killer mc

The sinister mister C R to the O C

You know me, I flow sweet on an old beat

I've been bringing heat since you were sucking your mother's teet

 

Run up on and bitch slap motherfuckers

pimp hand motherfuckers lip slash uppercut em like,

fist dragon and chin cracking,

for yip yappingi ip man em vitals paper thin,... Zig zagging em

When I'm in it they call army Sargents im hardly a target,

have you kissing the Beatles no Paul McCartney,

dominant bold asterisk, underline with a sharpie stick

kind of prick to undermine and spit it snarkily

The boogie monster that lurks under spring of the box got children pleading to god,

audible snarling oxygen heavy chested like Dylan Voxx,

chill with Croc in a swamp, feast and vanish under dock

smooth criminal sliding backwards with a walk

Spark heat can cook em all in a wok, spar with an ox.

Off em easy like when the charging a cop, quit the shit you ain't gifted with it,

like Wick the pistol work different in grip of capable killers who load and spit with it nigga

 

Im the ill poet my feet are pre equipped with steel toes in,

This ain’t ancient times but you know I’m still roaming,

I feel broken life shattered but I’m still going,

Demons in my temple ripping the eviction notice,,

I tore another page out my bloodstained poems,

They tried to rip my eyes out and couldn’t take my focus,

Behold the pale horse let my body bathe in locusts,

I’ll change the pecking order when I go and train some vultures,,

I blame the culture for our kids growing up deranged,

I blame the neurotoxins that they pump in our veins,

I blame the propaganda that they’re shoving in our face

But if we don’t awaken nothings surely gonna change,,