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K-Rino
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Strangle Hold
Don't worship me, I ain't the Lord.
I'm a flaming sword with vocal chords that could strangle a Saint Bernard
I make sure when it rains it pours,
Start language wars until the fluid in your brain is forced to stain the floor
My art is bold yet its sorta cold
Bite you in the face like crocodiles do in piles at the water hole
And once your camp is raided, bodies are laminated
Maybe I'll kiss your ring once your hand is amputated!
Theres morphine in my bar schemes
I slept for 14 seconds and had 25, 11-part dreams
I got styles in all mixtures
Bury you in the sheetrock behind family pictures, and the wall fixtures
The raps that sign, compile and attack minds,
and block your vital signs until your flat lines, flat line
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K-Rino, the Great Highness
Teaching at the finer school where students get murdered for making an A-
When I swing every emcee ducks
I'm the opposite of a Ménage à trois, cause I don't give three fucks!
Greatness can not be rushed
When you breath what I conceive, you heave up battery acid reflux
I'm lancing you like a panther's tooth
Catch you in your dancing suit, slice you into chunks and sell cans of you
My pens are like poisonous syringes
I go on war binges and launch missle-like bars from my jaw hinges
Words I mention tend to dismember appendages; enter his temple then spit until his memory hemorrhages
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