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Yeshua DapoED, J-Treds, Pumpkinhead - Truly Gifted Ones

на свой мобильный!
Отправь SMS с текстом 55788-124-1056 на номер 5537.

Предложение действительно для Российских операторов.

"Check it out yo..."
(scratches and repeats)
"There`s no doubt you`re gonna bump this in ya system..."

[Yeshua DapoED]
Yeah...one time...check it out
Unnhh...yo, check it out, check it out...yo..

Now let`s take it from the top
Yeshua Dapo I`m here to rock
Here to bop domes, I`m known on ya block
From here to Stockholm I`ve shown I could rock
So I`m knowin` what I dropped is prone to get copped
(And ya don`t stop!) On microphones I`m blowin` up the spot
With written rhymes rather than goin` off the top
Son I`m gettin` mine, by all means ness`
I`m not lettin` time fly or dreams rest
Cuz control over words like this only occurs
I guess once every...(hmmm) well I dunno
But with a flow to uplift
Worryin` about time really doesn`t make much sense
All I know I`m obligated, to drop a style you might-a waited
A little too long for the lift and pour
Rip roarin` rhymes the mind can store
Brought forth to you every time I record
I be bored in my crib thinkin` of ways to amaze
On a page, on a stage, wanna raise awareness
Clear this epidemic goin` on, emcees are way too careless

CHORUS
(scratching)
"This is a battle rhyme in case you haven`t noticed..." [Guru]
"Yo, nobody runs the point like that..."
"This is a battle rhyme in case you haven`t noticed..."
"Nobody can touch me..." [J-Treds]
"This is a battle rhyme in case you haven`t noticed..."
"My rhymes are designed to be perfect..." [Pumpkinhead]
"Kick a rhyme..." [Lord Finesse] "I rhyme for sure, why not?"
(scratching)

[J-Treds]
Yo...uh-huh...yo, yo, yo, yo...
Ay-yo we rip mics, spit nice, blew many spots
Who tried to bring it? You wanna stop like thick spikes
They didn`t want it, who at one gettin` this stunnin`
My competition didn`t like it, but been there and done it
Caught a nice tan on the mic, quarter short a life span
Went from headliner to head callin` `im hype man
Sick of my notch down, hot to average
Stoppin` the madness (know I`m sayin?)
Cuz there ain`t to toppin` our status
We off limits now that we award winnin`
And our past tense got rappers happily forfeitin`
Fallin` rapidly, leavin` `em lyin` in the streets
And when we`re gone? They`re all breathin` a sigh of relief, with
Some sign of weakness, but I flows almighty and
Those tryin` to beat this? (Well, alrighty then...)
Better think twice, cuz I ain`t the person or whom
You should be settin` your sights, hate to burst your balloon
But that`s a no win..(the champ), no balls in hell
Cuz I`ve known the thrill of victory all too well
And when we spit, it`s all jew-els
Anyone that tries to dis, send `em all to hell!

CHORUS
(scratches)
"I`m over niggaz, I`m a battle type mobster..."
"Y the PoED..."
"...Niggaz, I`m a battle type mobster..."
"J..Treds...J-Treds!"
"I`m over niggaz, I`m a battle type mobster..."
"Pum...Pumpkinhead...Pumpkinhead!"
"By far we`ve been...tr-true-truly gifted...truly gifted ones son..."


[Pumpkinhead]
It`s inconceivable how the simple minded copy my design
It`s an original, not your typical rhyme
It`ll cripple your spine, quick to shatter your sternum
When I get deep like surgeons, it`s magic like Earvin
You wanna test hard? You better step God
Your music make me cover my ears like the logo for the Def Squad
Wait, hold on, you haven`t heard the best part
The rhymes I use`ll have you baggin` groceries at a Check Mart
With a tense heart, talkin` on your shoe like Get Smart
Benched like Starks, shootin` a three-pointer at the playoffs (Damn!)
I`m ready to spray off, like a sawed a gauge off
I been workin` this for years while you be like "Sorry I`m late boss!"
Save the acting for Kate Moss and take off
Before I break off, raps, like a Kit Kat
My tongue`s a shotgun (BLAAOW!) wit` an unbelievable kick back
I spit licensed art, you`re just a souvenir knick-knack
I got together on this track, wit` Eli
Treds, yes you are the PoED, and I`m Jack...
...Daniels, light a candle on your mantle
We`re the big boys in this underground, ya`ll niggaz is cockerspaniels
It`s like...

CHORUS
"Glance at the emcee that is standing right in front of you..."
(scratches and repeats)
"On my rise, I`m fly sucka, now whatcha gonna do?"

"1,2...1,2..."
(echoes to fade out)

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