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lirik lagu 400 bars – el bandito

ayo, imma set the record straight to m-ssacre this fake
f-ck being friends with egotistical snakes
wishing they could have the dinner plate all for they own
apply the pressure, no coming back from this one
imma call ya -ss out, it’s only gonna get worse
try redeem yourself from a 400 bar verse
you sub-standard t-rd gone get murdered and burned
s-d-stically, putting lil neekz deep beneath the dirt
m-th-f-cka wanna switch sides to feed his ego
his own record label stealing my beats, and we know
that i produced the entire norwadian underground
now he’s tryna claim copyright for all of my sounds
but guess what b-tch, i’ll expose what you stand for
you and ya g-y record label, stuck in a sandstorm
mind of neekz inc. more like liar on the brink…
of a self-destructive habitat destined to sink
you can’t even blink before realizing the damage
how the f-ck you ever gone survive this madness?
wanna talk murder rap, i’ll murder you on the track
and ship you right back to ontario in a bodybag
f-ck a collabo, couldn’t pay me a single cent
for my production, my verses and the sh-t that i’ve dealt
you a scam-artist, a fraud -ss rappin’ junkie
who needs an extra dose of testosterone just to punch me
you really wanna piece of these abilities
he applied for disability, i crippled him lyrically
mentally sedate the fragile mind of neekz inc
you a broke f-g rappin’ bout the same old sh-t
f-ck, your labels a joke, could you be more egocentric?
could you even be more devious, misleading and selfish?
would you please just get on with your suicide attempts
instead of posting all your problems on facebook yet again
lying for attention like a desperate wh0r-
rhyming at a pre-school level and ya intellects poor
neekz loves to rap about sh-t that he never done
like beating up cops when they actually beat him up
tried to k!ll himself cus of his psychotic mentality
should’ve diagnosed him quick, can’t cope with reality
this f-cker wanna battle me? bring in a special team
infra-red beams still got sent back piece by piece
you better off playing harmonica, c-cksucker!
you better off smoking crystal meth with ya brother
you better off tripping, keep yelling at ya mother
screaming you’re not g-y, just a b-tt-pirate f-cker
mad and ashamed that your living with your parents
in a boy-scouts bedroom, stuck with interference
cursing out the intergalactic alien hackers
responsible for every single mistake that happens
a wack has-been, you had like one good solo song
i hijacked the beat, remix, better move along
you date hookers, but too afraid to flip out
neekz so g-y he gotta tell his mom to kick her out
put down the crack pipe, you f-cking crackhead
get smacked upside down with the gat then…
they know i deliver the truth, brutally honest
you not a super soldier, you a super-junkie carc-ss
a targeted looser, getting picked on by his own city
plus the rest of the world, now the sh-t real gritty
methadone clinic can’t save ya -ss now
you should’ve told me earlier, you wanna tap out?
it’s too late now, i’m here to blaze out
what’s left of ya career, bullets bout ta’ f-ck ya face, blao!
you the prey now, so better pray loud
god is ignoring you, all you see is rain clouds
there ain’t no way out, even if you started diggin’
even if you made it out by flying on a pigeon
n0body gonna listen to you after these writtens
the real sickest lyrics for 20 minutes have risen
spitting manslaughter cus my rhymes been convicted
my style so restricted, i’m the only one enlisted
to handle intricate flows, spit sh-t so dope…
that in a battle, automatically force you to no-show
you so broke, you stealing coupons from bums
neekz the type to rob b-tches with a f-ckin’ water gun
on the run, and feeling guilty for being a punk
only people say they smart is the ones who are dumb
f-ggot, die slow with no soul attached
demons in h-ll dragging you down while they laugh
ready to rip yo -ss, to separate each bone intact
tearing off ya flesh, and burning you to ash
from ashes to ashes and dust to dust
i’ll rip ya mask off, so i can spit on this chump
proceed to punch him violently, knock him the f-ck out
and simultaneously spaz on the track getting buck wild
you better duck and hide, hit you with the 45
tearing out ya fragile mind, you won’t be identified
especially when el bandito overk!ll when tote the steel
i broke ya will, the real k!llers know the deal
throw him off his own hook, i do this on the daily
stab you with the pen around, don’t ever try to play me
with ya impotent sound, you ain’t makin’ no babies
lying neekz inc. what you think? best to pay me
welcome to the house of pain, so go ahead and overdose
or i’ll put you in a everlasting comatose
jump around to punch you out, all angles, up and down
this is my house, best to shut up if i call you out
lil neekz, can’t tweet ya way out of this
internet tough guy frontin’ like he bout that sh-t
like bussin’ caps on those saying that he suck at rap
he fires back over computers tryna crush it flat
but life ain’t what it seems like, he don’t want no beef right
so he acting clueless cus he know bandito, he’s right
only wanted justice for norwadian underground
so neekz stole the beats than he claimed the copyright
like 8 of our collabos was registered on your sh-t
then you take my album as well, you punk b-tch
and this is not including the original cypher
but you a pitiful liar, who’s despicably trying
to redeem himself, from all the damage he done
and i ain’t talkin’ lyrically, he’s practically done
go and slap him like what, he won’t do a d-mn thing
he’ll just take all the credit like he a d-mn king
but it won’t work giving a sincere apology
your hysterical hypocrisy will be known symbolically
spiritually sloppy, you getting lyrically bodied
cus mon inc. won’t even press the physical copies
if it’s under ya label, why not invest some money to it
cus legally i own all the beats, and i can prove it
f-ck it, i even own all the masters included
imma take back what’s mine, i can be quite ruthless
f-ck what you think, mon inc. a literal joke
neekz tryna sue a restaurant cus he literally broke
had to get on disability, just to get a check
and tryna gain some respect, while he smokin’ his meth
he can finally move out of his parent’s little house
at the age of 28, never made it out alive
f-ck is he rhymin’ about? couldn’t even craft a song
twenty-twenty vision only when he have his gl-sses on
i’ll never make a part 2, time is up
cus of a b-tch called neekz, that f-cked the album up
but you ain’t slowing me down, you keep on sucking
the d-cks of mc’s that you ain’t lyrically f-ckin’ with
basically, you b-tch made, get poked by the switchblade
i dictate ya mixtape and disgrace ya nickname
you f-cking mistake, like ya lyrics on display
complaining ’bout your listeners that won’t even press play
you always admit it, how can you f-ck with me lyrically?
stick to try solving a bunch of conspiracies
about the flat earth, better change your priorities
orbiting sp-ce aliens abducted his family cus of authorities
morbid schemes of the reptilian shapeshifting hybrids
neekz be like: “pick me! oh my gosh, i’m so excited!”
“i’m the chosen one, like neo in the matrix”
“i’m sacred for unknown reasons and destined for greatness!”
nah b-tch, you just daydreaming fantasies
like sp-ceships gone pick you out of this f-cked up reality
f-cking tragedy, can’t believe i’m wasting time on you
but i build and destroy when i rhyme in the booth
compelled to k!ll compet-tors, deplete they bars
and make a run through every d-mn beat from the starz
you know what’s really gone alleviate my cause?
that you’ll die stuck in canada with needles in ya arm
claimed i f-cked you over cus of the fact that i’m busy?
you trippin’ like bathsalt and fentanyl, it’s risky…
to even dare accusing me of disloyalty
but i’ll salt ya wounds and demand my royalties
f-ck face, it’s wartime, f-ck peace
good luck with ya release, making ya own f-cking beats
punk, i make examples of treacherous b-tches
who rather profit they ego and sellout like snitches
you f-cking racist piece of sh-t wanna handle this?
better watch ya mouth, like how you talked to sammaliz
there’s no backing this b-st-rd or his rappin’ bits
and we got the audio to prove it if you challenge this
demented music inc. ain’t f-cking with amateurs
or wiggers that envy in jealousy and mad at us
or wiggers even considering starting a beef
or wiggers that can’t handle they business properly
so show me what you got, you won’t make it to the top
bloodclot, ain’t no bullet in the world that you can stop
put ya face on the dot, it’s one shot, we take ya spot
spray the block, while you be craving them rocks
he paranoid like, everyone i know is hacking
going into the recordings, make sure the flow crackling
accusing me of doing sh-t is tragic like really neekz!?
got better things to do than watch you solve conspiracies
eyez on the prize, more like lie after lie
keep saying ya sorry, time after time
neekz desperate, emotionally getting hurt and sh-t
you sold out every single artist you worked with
from shogun, all the way to casper the ghost
now you wanna touch my flows, like you the one who wrote…
the sh-t that i spit, way above ya paygrade
ignoring the issue, you keep promoting my name
like nothings ever happened, like all of this is cool?
why the f-ck should anybody listen to you?
why the f-ck shouldn’t anybody beat the sh-t outta you?
don’t you ever disrespect the ones who made the beats for you
ya peace offers pathetic, these just bars said it
i meant it, demented mercenaries shocked this diabetic
neglected, disrespected fake thug needs to wake up
before we aim and bust, you gotta pay up
or we place a slug, at ya pillow just to shock ya
this deranged f-ck keeps sleepin’ when i pop ya
take control of ya label to ultimately drop ya
okay, we get it, we know you need to see a doctor
you bit a bunch of nurses for tryna stop ya
was it all the body parts on ebay that shocked ya?
that you went to and get ya -ss beat by cops?
is that the reason you always jealous of tree top?
only b-tching and moaning, wishing and hoping
that someone can relate to his pitiful posing
face it, you better off lyrically no showing
my only regret is that i saved you from overdosing
that’s right, you the type i despise
i’ll f-cking guarantee that i’ll air the sh-t out
a junkie racist inbred who tries to grab a mic
you’re better off dead, i should have never saved ya life
say goodbye to ya career, cus i’m tearing it down
you best to pack ya sh-t and stay clear outta town
cus if i’m coming, i’m gunning with armor piercing rounds
putting ’em down in the ground, i spare no lives
only duplicate the body count by each minute
each second i’m bringing more panic exposing neekz’s limits
running for his life, tryna get to the clinic
yelling for methadone cus i’m here to pay him a visit
and burn him with diss tracks beyond hours and minutes
beyond time itself, this is only a snippet
so zip it, the body bag, of course, this exhibit…
showcasing the hall of rappers that shouldn’t be invented
d-mn right i meant it, i spit so vivid
the listeners said: chill, he’s severely diminished
i be like h-ll nah, this f-cker ain’t finished
i put his soul on ice and keep on breaking his spirit
brutally tortured, by a ruthless performer
keep on listening, temperature getting warmer
create more disorder with major supporters
than political confusion, deploying enforcers
but f-ck that, i rather let the people know
that neekz been a hoe, only a few neat flows
he been doing, can be considered as dope
but the rest of his sh-t, you gotta tell him: h-ll no!
don’t check him out unless i’m featured on it
his solo sh-t can cause a serious seizure from it
i mean it, even the speakers are turning off and…
plugs itself out and blaming overheating from it
d-mn… you really suck, neekz
throwing tantrums at sam, and now you ducking me?
don’t worry, i’ll take care of ya sloppy bars
the shotty was gonna help me sell your body parts
auctioned to the highest bidder, desires delivered
to them old rich cannibals, something to consider
when you f-ck with el bandito, the born ready spitter
heavy hitter, making compet-tion seize and wither
keep trippin’ off the crystal like a daily routine
and believe you can fly out the window on lsd
enjoy your moment in the air with no worry or screams
f-ck a wheelchair, i’ll beat you to a vegetable for real
hooked on life support, i’ll cut ya f-cking life short
hunt you in ya afterlife, when that mic records
open up a thunderstorm, come out the microburst
to show you the ultimate mc of the universe
so f-ck that puny verse that you tryna rehe-rs-
you best to reimburse me for beats i made for you first
it’s only gonna get worse, i’ll spit my sh-t in reverse
and conjure up demonic forces that be ripping for thirst
you draw first blood on my crew, then it’s on
cus we ain’t resting ’til our compet-tion is gone
spark the artillery on every f-cking song
just to call ya -ss out and to tell you to spit some
f-ggot, i’ll make ya heartbeat stop
when you get punched out, like an employee clock
imma laugh if you try to diss me, better stop
can’t compare 400 bars with what lil neekz drop
cus he’ll be taking forever to reply
or even match the caliber of my rhymes
he soft and defenseless dropped to the trenches
knock you senseless, get mocked in every sentence
authorized to put yo -ss on detention
best to pay attention, when i question your profession
f-cking up your potential for f-cking up my sessions
only weapons you seen was at a science fiction convention
i’ll take ya pension right out your account
what comes around, goes around, f-ckin’ ’em out
you wanna side with neekz? then i’m buckin’ ’em down
cuz you ain’t running away with norwadian underground
i swear on ya life, demented music own the masters
bet ya life i’ll take that sh-t down way faster
then you could curse my name out and call me a b-st-rd
knowing you ain’t got the b-lls to pursue or go after…
copyright infringements, you did it on purpose
so i’ll be happy to shut down ya circuits
i’m determined to murder your career for certain
you should thank me, i’m actually doing you a service
i’m the composer, author, mathematically make you nervous
means you’re ent-tled, 25 percent for ya verses
he so underground he gone choke on the surface
neekz could never adapt, so we closing the curtains
beatboxing sk!lls ain’t gonna save ya -ss now
cus i got mad investors ’bout ta’ knock ya -ss down
he ’bout to catch anxiety, a nervous breakdown
crying to me over the phone, while i’m tracking him down
p-ssy, that’s the second time you dare…
accusing me of hacking, then you’re breaking down in tears
claiming you sorry again of everything you said
this cycle gotta stop, so i’m taking off ya head
prepare to get ya self, checked in, lobotomized
neekz a walking product, of the unmodified
gone end up like his brother on a constant high
provoke too many people, we’ll arrange the homicide
no r.i.p. posts on facebook, no last goodbye’s
no funeral visits or a mention, just die
no news stories, only swift and brute force
no reincarnation, just a bl–dy bruised corpse
no afterlife, no heaven, no h-ll
no interdimensional sh-t and no church bells
no alien can save you from destined destruction
only able to tractor beam his -ss and probe-f-ck him
destroy you in every sense of the definition
infinite ammunition, m-th-f-ckas best to listen
if i’m slipping, i punch myself back on the rhythm
back on the writtens, to push you into submission
leave you verbally castrated, his fans hating
cus i left him speechless, seeing my words rotating
populating his mind frame, he’s agitated
starts stuttering words getting aggravated
face it, m-th-f-cka, you’re too basic
how often are you gonna repeat and mention the matrix?
keep fading inside a mist of frustration
suffocating on them recycled bars you generating
you outdated, you know it, that’s why you hesitating
low vocab, that’s why you racially discriminating
this m-th-f-cka lack the words so he irritated
around black folks, he feel so intimidated
cus neekz been a hater, from day one
no wonder this f-ggot all alone without anyone
i ain’t gonna shoot you, so when neekz is tied up
i’ll tell sam to k!ll him, then give him the handgun
you can’t run, you can’t even blink ya eye
before i m-ssacre ya bars, straight rippin’ up ya rhymes
el bandito coming through with the sickness energized
to pulverize neekz, before he gets identified
steak knives, f-ck up ya face before i gun at you
shots in the air, let me see who you be running to
mission is simple, make it a sport, i’ll be hunting you
re-murder you on every track that i’ve done with you
thinking he a boss, now he running to the cops
wasn’t gonna shoot you, but of course, i had my fingers crossed
no joking, this dope will leave him broken
like all those times you overdosed in the open
you have no future, better get on ya deathbed
get smacked dead, you godd-mn crackhead
he said he sucking d-cks for a last final hit
said he’s gonna eat it up like a banana split
you got taped in the process, sent to your mother
way to go at, you g-y -ss m-th-f-cka
bustin’ predictable lines in his studio closet
until one day he accidentally got locked in
yelling for his mommy, papa told her: “he’ll be fine”
just let him be, he probably searching for a goldmine
unfortunately, he was high, while he was inside
so the panic attack kicked in, barely survived
later on, he went to get drunk at a bunch of b-tches house
paranoia kicking in, so they threw his -ss out
yelling outside, that he’s gonna k!ll himself
cops showed up, got his -ss beat as well
next thing you know he’s in a f-cking hospital
black and blue, bruises all over his opticals
he called me up and blaming the alien hackers
messing up his computer like, that’s what happened
yeah right, get ya rest, take a nap
or go look for the hospital’s hidden treasure map
i ain’t no giving dap to a lying sh-tbag
couldn’t fight ya way out of christmas gift wrap
i’ll b-tch-slap neekz, send him back in zig-zags
he a pansy, a p-ssy ’bout to get his wig clapped
let them real m-th-f-ckas dig that
before this imitation sh-t cracks like a bunch of kit-kats
you been trash, ever since you got sloppy
rocking a track with me is like fighting a tsunami
i been murdering reptilian annunakis
i been overk!lling tracks and catching bodies
can’t f-ck with me, you know my flows wrath
packed in dope raps, but they ain’t know that
neekz need to understand, so here’s a cold fact
you’re too self-destructive, so walk ya own path
i’m just letting you know, you brought this on ya self
suck a d-ck, die slow, high on crystal meth
you need to rest, permanently put on a shelf
just stop and accept the cards you been dealt
throw up ya white flag, no one can save you
just let the grim reaper, come and embrace you
you know who to pray to, no need to chase you
unless you really want me to permanently erase you
burning all your written lyrics on pages
this f-cker had it coming since the beginning of ages
trust me, some of the sh-t he say is outrageous
had to let him go cuz he ain’t f-ckin’ up my paper
now i gotta hurry up and finish this track
cus i’m running outta breath, running in the final lap
got 10 bars left, for these suckas wanna rap
they drawing they swords, but i’m bustin’ back with gats
i’m going in a blast, demented music the true sh-t
whoever wanna beef, imma keep staying ruthless
regardless if i make commercial bangers, i do this
all day even if they put me in an inst-tution
the h-llsp-wn h-llion cruel taking out these p-wns
el bandito keep fighting when he knows the sh-t’s on
i can’t wait, ’til i see ’em expired and gone
400 bars, no coming back from this one

- el bandito

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