- Lyrics
- Album list
Pen Pals
-
The Comeback
Rapswell：
Yo it's the baddest kids, the verbal catalyst
Talentless rappers had to battle this to learn the words I spit are so hazardous
I had a list of the illest emcees in the universe
But soon a verse came in my head that made me forget who was first
Like a Lacuna nurse, an enemy of memory
The only remedy's searchin for your true identity
Serenity enters me from here to Tennessee
An this menace be, yet another MC you cannot see
A grown dude that owns shoes in chrome hues
And when it comes time to pwn noobs, I don't lose
I've had enough of rappers actin like they bad as fuck
I chatted up the slut with the fattest butt and spat a nut
You outta luck, your shit is wack and comatose
Even your momma knows you took a fall like dominoes
So vamanos, got more flavor than Gushers
The spot rusherz
Yeah you get props!
But not as much as us
HOOK
Cynic The Apache:
Hear no evil, see no evil but we speak a lot it
Rapswell:
These amateurs and novices get smacked for actin childish
C:
Hold the weight of Free Willy
R:
We chillin in the cut
Mercy me ya mans a villain, killin every mic we touch
Cynic The Apache:
I'm like when that lightning struck the kite Benny Franklin held
Stash up in my socks, so no wonder why the ankles smell
When that angel fell I snatched em out of the sky
Split a 40 with em, gave the man a pound, then good bye
Heard the sound of a siren and ran, thinkin like a rebel
Disorderly conduct for drinkin with the Devil
Never payin my fine bitch, choosin my alignment
Learned this trick from Nas, only stare at your eyelids
Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com
Never sleep tho, always check the peephole
Hurt em with the vocals, these okeydokes melt down like Chernobyl
*Shit talking*
Cynic:
APACHE!
The man to call when your problem's messy
You wanna mouth off? Suck on my colossal testes
The apostles blessed me, all 12, at the last supper
Mass ruckus, blast suckas
The wreckage is impeccable
Rapswell:
Turn you fruits into vegetables, it's easy
Me n Cynic we be on the top like ZZ
Or Mt. Olympus, down to rip this track to the end
And we sound the slickest so we never have to pretend
And
Cynic:
We some true scholars, study til our heads are full
You n your man on the throne, knock you off your pedestal
Kick it intellectual, or we rap ignorant
Rapswell:
Countin stacks of wax while we smokin jazz cigarettes
Since I met The Cynic it's been double on the wordplay
Cuz real lyricism isn't dead, fuck what herbs say
Survey says: most people don't know shit!
Rather dance around with glowsticks
Fuck em the flow's sick
Time to spark shit, up in the mosh pit
I'm feelin nauseous, put the quill to the parchment
An everything's mo better, so fed up with dumb raps
Strictly boom bap
So you know it's The Comeback
HOOK
-
|
