Styles Of Beyond

Styles Of Beyond - Playing With Fire songtekst

Je score:
(feat. Apathy, Celph Titled)



[Verse 1: Tak]

Stand back, put the picture my frame

The handcraft of a master, the flicker, the flame

That sell three madman Megadef LP

Monster mash, prop for what? From S.O.B.

Shout to Honeycomb...what would I be without wax?

Just another empty battery shell in the pack

String on the puppet, laughin', claimin' I'm all of that

When I know in fact, everything you claim is all crap



[Verse 2: Ryu]

Yo, got the fuse lit, keepin' it movin', so

Freakin' abusive, people are pukin', so

Sick of the music, suckin' the fumes in

So don't get it confused, I'm not you, stupid

Hundred-proof booze in the back, all tipsy

Bring two clips, I'm clappin' all sixty

Swing through quick and bust if one's empty

Your chances of leavin' the club: fifty/fifty



[Verse 3: Apathy]

Wanna fuck around with Hell's recruits?

I'll stomp Satan in his face 'till it melts my boots

I'll use the sun for my throne, universe as my home

And your skull as a crown to adorn my dome

Watch porn with your girl, slip a mickey in her Beck's

Put a hickey on her neck, then the titties I caress

Under match of ??? set's, I'm the one the chickies sweat

Make 'em suck it 'till their jaw's fucked up like 50 Cent's

Most of you faggots stay postin' that jacked shit

But when we retaliate, it's never some rap shit

Swing on your mandible and bring out mechanical

Devices that splices flesh from the intangible

I spark fire like electrical shocks

And ready the glocks, to clash with Connecticut cops

Who on some Brad Pitt shit, so you better go watch

The movie Seven, 'cause you'll find your wife's head in a box



[Verse 4: Tak]

Rush you bustas, get touched with nunchucks

You tough tough, askin' to really get fucked up

Who cares what you been through? I'm goin' against you, so

Sharpen your skills while I sharpen my Ginsu

Gas and ashes, and medical kits, but see

That's what happens when chemicals mix

The birth of a strange creature, umbilical split

But for now, the main feature, you said it was sick



[Verse 5: Celph Titled]

The word on the streets is that I'm hellbound, 'cause I bully Christians

But I stay up in the armory, developin' pulley systems

For launchin' grenades strategically, onstage with heaters illegally

Got the sound man shook at my vocal frequency

Back at the crib, bitch better strap on a bib

'Cause when I'm bustin' off, it's drippin' off the tip of her chin

Chickens and hens, you know I keep 'em bendin' over for me

With my chef hat, stuffin' poultry on the upholstery

Celph Titled's known as a gangsta to some

I got the powers of the godz, acclimated to one

All these young cats with glocks, tryin' to clear the floor

I'm old school, when I'm pullin' out my Fearless Four

Hear the sound of the clap? Bury your face

'Cause the mag that I pack needs a carryin' case

I'm not from the Aryan race, but I'll still persecute you

Ride around in the trunk with a little hole to shoot through



[Verse 6: Ryu]

I'm "Word Perfect," back in the circuit

Been...top ten since you were snatchin' purses

Golf club thug, a nickel and dime hustler

All them mob flicks are makin' you rhyme tougher

When the nine clicks, you freeze

Two sick emcees, get cool quick when I'm shootin' the breeze

Who's this? Ryu and Tak, with Ap and Celph

Spittin' heat 'till the plastic melt, watch it



[Outro: Tak]

Claim you wanna stay, but you have to go

Grab the gun powder, blast the calico

Time to saddle up, this ain't a talent show

You wanna battle what? Bullets that travel slow



[Outro 2: Ryu]

Talk, but keep steppin'

Discrete, false perception

Talk, but keep steppin'

Spark with heat weapons
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Taal: Engels

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