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lirik lagu erupted minds pt.1. – gregory mfeka

erupted minds pt.1

verse

a west side n*gga from newlands yes/
riverdene for exact explanation, need an address/
giving her thee address to come over and get undressed, till she naked, shy and she vigorous, bout to give up this d*ck/

but f*ck talking bout stories of me and losing my purity/
i bet that half the industry still be eating a pack of these/
a n*gga on a boat and surrounded by all this mist/
and then i thought ghostwriters composing all your sh*t/

time to stay on my lane and just pace myself for i make it/
sacramental i am, you pray to me for some favors/
lurеd towards the blue pill hoping happiness savеs us/
took the red and i downed it with alcohol for redemption/

spitting heat that could rattle an atheist, screaming god/
escort the female rappers out the industry and break the f*cking industry, that wrecking ball and miley cyrus vibe/
my mama raised me well, place no hand upon a thot/

i’m glad you see the crown fits, you dead and now it’s mine/
b*tch go ahead and tell the head of the industry that i shot/
i’m like 2pac, you see gregory call the cops and the ops/
when i’m done i call nine double one for this massacre/
i mastered the art of cutting the hate out my circle and now it’s semi/
master shredder i am, put barbers out of their hair jobs/
i k!ll you verbally dead now you on the streets scouting meat/
but do what they did to moms, i felt the pain on her left eye/

now are you man or are you b*tch n*gga/
are you well prepared to be the face of the city you rep n*gga/
false prophesy prophesied, hoping that we’d be shook/
a reenactment of nine eleven, when i’m on the mic n*gga/

i started this sh*t in ninth grade/
an adolescent in school clothes, rapping in basics/
them punchline cypher sessions/
they were starters for me/
the sh*t i’m spitting now be the venom parker can’t beat/

and now i’m on the road to reality of this music/
a passion that i savor and relish, my faith into it/
and i done put the time in it n*gga/
still gon’ flourish my n*gga/ still gon’ good will hunt these rappers up in here/

still gon’ master the art of me pacing my moves/
me at the back of the pack like i am irrelevant/
trivial or a improvident, till i make it and run with it/
lead the pack then i leave the pack with the chips and some other sh*t/
but enough about little tales that i tattle/
you want me spitting the hardest that they can’t handle/
like hot potato, my chips are burning the table/
the only way you gon’ learn is when gregory pulls the cable/

i’m able to abrogate or to decimate in this game/
out the way, if you break my wave, you get laced with lines i state/
emanate with a lot mines that are mine and blow up your spine/
so you sit and scream out your mind while i take the crown and rotate/
one eight zero degrees to face all the broken dreams, battered faces/
with grace i orate the truth and with proof you will see me gain/
all my riches and all my winnings, i know that the lord shower/
the power we all obtain has no pinnacle, f*ck the a sp*ce/

this is your tribulation, wretchedness desolation/
getting laced by these beats but i’m never trippin’, i’m steady/
my gloves on, ali with the jabs leave you to spaz/
disarrayed by the fact that these words got energy/

i feel like the big show, then selling out big shows/
my dreams are mammoth size, i’m taking the city too/
durban where i reside, energy too alive/
penalty if you cut my goals short with a knife/

take my time with this sh*t, langston hughes in this b*tch/
write my views on the sand with a stick in hope that it sticks/
long enough for the next generation to see my sh*t/
witness all of my moves like i’m alvin ailey and sh*t/

- gregory mfeka

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