How could I keep my composure
|
When all sorts of thoughts fought for exposure?
|
Release, then veins in the brains increase
|
When I let off, make a wish and blow the smoke off my piece
|
Unloadin, unfold and the rhymes are explodin
|
And the mic that I? holdin? golden
|
Cordless cause the wire caught fire like a fuse
|
Gunpowder and the slightest bruise is a friction
|
The outcome is there so listen
|
Here's the brief description
|
A boom then flame then smoke, ashes a dust to dust
|
Contact is compact when I bust
|
MC's are now in a massacre
|
A disaster a... master at fashion a beat to death
|
To a pulp, till it can't pump
|
Speakers aint sayin nothin
|
Now the ball can thump
|
As I'm lookin' I stand like great buildings in Brooklyn
|
Then the stage is took then
|
Havoc struck that could product a whole court
|
Keep in touch with the mic when you're holdin y'all
|
Sumpin and pumpin and slobbin and droolin
|
Nothin's pumpin, who do you think ya foolin?
|
Tommy Tucker, the neighborhood sucker
|
What you oughtta do.... is pick up a tempo
|
From what I invent, so hard not to bite, but you can't prevent so
|
You start to kidnap
|
I watch the kid rap
|
When he get off he know he shouldn't a did that
|
Minor, old-timer, weak-rhymer, stay-in-liner
|
You won't be inclined to go so yo
|
Maybe later, you're gonna be
|
But for now, you're almost one of me
|
Now the immature imitations taken from originations
|
Made by tracin and a little arrangin
|
So perform, If ya still aint warm maybe after
|
A roast by the host with the most it's a musical massacre
|
|
Never tired, don't even try it, keep quiet
|
Like a storm, you could rain...but a riot
|
Remains, the gangs power just like the towerin inferno
|
The beat's gonna burn so
|
Distance I kept, ou better watch your step
|
Volunteers go from here and get
|
Ya out of the flames
|
Appreciate the temperature change
|
Anywhere within the range of celcius
|
Fahrenheit on the mic, mic melts see it
|
Burns soon as it's felt see it's torchin, scorchin
|
Mic's pipin hot, steamin who's schemin now ya not
|
James Brown must a been dusted
|
Disgusted, now he can't be trusted
|
Embalmed with fluid
|
Static can cause an explosion, in fact impact's closin in
|
Time was up, so I don't need a time bomb
|
Beat gives me a heat-stroke when I rhyme calm
|
Pull out the tool, sometimes I wanna break fool
|
But I was cool, like one in the chamber
|
Lets play a game of rhymin roulette
|
And put me up to your brain and name a rhyme about ya clout
|
One mistake... ya out
|
If this imitation it can't be the same show
|
Maybe what you'll find somewhere over the rainbow
|
Courage, heart, brain, you need rhyme
|
Turn on your mic, snap your fingers three times
|
We gone, or the story won't end the same
|
And you'll feel the flame
|
The potion was weak, make another antidote
|
Whats the science? why can't ya quote?
|
Elements for musical intelligence
|
rhymes are irrelevant, no development
|
And that settles it
|
Go manufacture a match, send me after a blast
|
From the master that has to make musical massacre
|
|
-----------------
|
Musical Massacre
|
Eric B. & Rakim |