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lirik lagu i’ll come running back to you – edan

[sample track]
i’ll come running back to you…

[edan]
the e-triple is a sick cracker,
i’mma flip fast, and b-tch-slap a thick rapper
after this i’ll make your brain stop
trying to battle’s like trying to light a candle with a raindrop
i ain’t having it; you’re at the stage laminate;
after the show, you let me know you was a great fan of it,
the music that the e makes or creates
i’ll make a thousand beats out of three crates and feel great
but if you want to rush the place and bluff and base
i’ll fart in my hand and touch your face
i never need an l or booze to elevate; i k!ll eleven crews
make the channel 7 news and celebrate
my cerebellum breaks atoms; my brain patterns
came from the same strange chasm that made saturn
so don’t doze on the sh-t i compose, cause i was
digging for records while you was digging in your nose
so if you want to brawl and beef from across the street
i accomplish feats, cause talk is cheap
i meet jerks with a miss-ile, you’ll be hurt when i reverse your
work into a sh-t-pile, the dictator flips data;
you’ll get slain by a diss-master so ix-nay on the chit-chatter
i’m so p-ssionate, it’s accurate to say that i’m an
addict for the mic, cause i keep running back to it

[sample track]
i’ll come running back to you…

[edan]
so i was saying i’m a fiend for the
pristine raps on the sixteen-track recorder
we oughta collaborate if you can imagine a way of
lacerating the rhythm with fixing a fatter plate
when rotating on a tech-12 platform
i excel at warp-speeds and jaws bleed
i force-feed a cross-breed the thoughts needed to
keep a secret and leave a weasel easily defeated
i’ll tell you short like a dumb midget: you’re not rhyming live so get a
motherf-cking nine-to-five and run with it
i’ll sit your -ss in a cubicle fast, or any other slave-
driven environment for you to adapt
my name’s written on every appliance in your brain-kitchen
to make riches is one of my main missions
but it’s not the determining factor, your -ss-crack will
catch a back-draft when i’m burning an actor
verbal -ss-ssin; my architect pleases…
(“when i was twelve…”) i ate a lot of grilled cheeses
but nowadays to hold the mic’s my only vice, so behold the might of a poltergeist
it’s edan not the smothers brothers
and if the microphone was heroin, i’d be a dead motherf-cker!
base-heads need crack; i tried to leave the mic alone, but yo, (“i can’t hold it back!”)

[sample]
i’ll come running back to you…

- edan

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