Airborne Rangers

Текст песни Souls of Mischief - Airborne Rangers

Raps slash out these battleship torpedoes
That'll rip through your fragile ego
Ransack your evil empire like I was Genghis
The con artist fiendish on target laser beam shift
Trackin' your movements like the Pentagon
Disarm the meanest lookin' studio prankster
Endangered, we airborne rangers with the broken language
Absorbing blows then regain my strength
The Chinese connection, game of death
You might see me in the reflection in the chain on his neck
Controlling these mics while he aimin' his tech
Coward breakin' a sweat, said he shakin' and shit
Couldn't even hold it still cause his hands was all wet
Said "We a threat cause we the heaviest"
And with a slow block in his progress he'll never be fresh
You can't murdalize a survivalist
Fool we thrive on this shit, the third eye is too swift

All we gotta do is provide the music, uh
Don't need a 'Lac on D's
To make your bitch hop on my lap and lap on these
Lavish 'em please, don't tease
To all these way below average MC's
You gon' stay below, don't wish, that's just how it's gon' be
My style is on levels unattainable
Recyclable and reusable
But not biodegradable, so don't confuse 'em
They last eternal, leave you aghast, it's taciturn
When I spit it, unmatched fashion over the rhythm
Unabashedly, leave sights on the extreme sides of ghastly
Mic mastery, necessary steps to make you genuflect
I reflect the genuine and accept
Nothing less than your respect in excess
I wasn't expecting the success that I met
When I grabbed my shit and left, commit
Won't let it get to my head, I gotta check on that
Check your spice rack and soak elements, black

We combust when we contact
Come correct with the contract
Show respect when we stomp past
We've been prepped for the combat
Got the specs of your launch pad
Snatch your bitch when we rock that
Interception, she out back
Undressed off the twomp sack
Blessed off the cognac
Take her back, we don't want that

I don't rap for the money, but I'm lovin' that it pays well
Sometimes I kick a strange tale, make your brain swell
Souls tighter than lifers sitting in the same cell
I never listen to the drama that a dame sell
I'm trying to make that mail so I soak the game well
I know the spell from the rattle of a snake's tail
When a hard nigga spray and the enemies laying pale
I'm with a female that was waiting, making her exhale
I'm double XL like the magazine is
And fuck a drug but I can show you what a rappin' fiend is
Perhaps my team is not the type to act the meanest
But on my birth you just a poor on Earth
You getting smacked to Venus
Stick this jack in the penis of your label exec
Cause you ain't able to rep or able to wreck
I'm claiming respect with rappin' that'll strangle your neck
Claim you a vet but still I'm making you jet, shaking the set

I'm ubiquitous on three hundred and fifty cubic inches
Of horsepower fuel injection
Positive traction, throttling action
My prerogative's idling
Mind-boggling speed, tobogganing streets of Oakland
English on English, the kingpin
Swinging like Charlie Mingus, high wire
Torch swallowing, spine tingling
Breaking murderers with permanent tourniquets
Firm, burn your sternum like nerve gas
And germ warfare, hors d'oeuvres
Serve ya, Sequoia Heights is sterling vintage
Coinage and terms eccentric
Circumventing the industry
While your fate remains in the chains of imagery
Portrayed in mass media hype
We smash meteorites through mics
Crash through the core at the speed of the light
I'm Riunite on ice, graffiti on mics
The beat is all white, forever sweet and precise
For me to ignite, uh

We combust when we contact
So come correct with the contract
Show respect when we stomp past
We've been prepped for the combat
Got the specs of your launch pad
Snatch your bitch when we rock that
Interception, she out back
Undressed off the twomp sack
Blessed off the cognac
Take her back, we don't want that
Nah, not that (Never that)
We combust when we contact
So come correct with the contract
Show respect when we stomp past
We've been prepped for the combat
Got the specs of your launch pad
Snatch your bitch when we rock that
Interception, she out back
Undressed off the twomp sack
Blessed off the cognac
Take her back, we don't want that
Nah, not that