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lirik lagu iku – may

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verse 1
word to the terminator of the human breath
oxygen must give in itself just to ensure you fresh
i wonder if you ever get bothered by all the scent
of the people you swallow, wish i could pyro the stress
you caused me when i went to see her in that hospital with all my molecules crying out in distress that its possible
for her to p-ss away that night and it will cause a feud
for the k!ller been known to the coroner
a car owner drive careless this day when bottles over
paraphernalia at time when the devil cover
she was ’bout to make a pace on the express to express her distaste to a guy at the time he couldn’t find the brakes on his landrover
over dosed with pain as she closed with the ground
i’ma kick someone in the b-lls if she can kick the bucket
life is toying with us right now and she is like a puppet
maybe its the reason i hate barbie dolls in my pocket

chorus
iku oro
iku o ni pa wa
iku o
iku orooo

verse 2
mr dagrin, aka barackogrin, he grinned outta life with a good story prolly cos moses poses at his bed giving him doses of stories showing life ain’t full of roses
supposedly he alive today, most of these wackos would be closing
their careers down, the carrier’s gown
married to the game till death
though in arrears now, the affair now
that i fear now is no one will ever reach up to his standards thirteen years from now
indigenous music is losing its whereabouts
fela and his better music reached his elastic limit, pellagic, erratic zone, better be old when the galacticos come for the stones of life, onwardly its comforting to know
that we will rest in peace, please, i ain’t pleased we ain’t in one piece
peace been split to pieces, kicking buckets keep being a sport
how long your life span? i just wanna borrow
cos who knows it? i just might be dead tomorrow

chorus

let’s talk about some hiphop while popping guns on some c4
implosion of this industry prolly rests on some mixture
of gun powder with dumb power, reason i have this beef for
herbivore m-ssacre should be celebrated with liquor
celibacy of new hiphop really gimme some hiccup
rapping is dead, and n0body can raise him in the middle of rigor mortis
a statement for being stuck in a state of vigor
stuck in a morgue, awaiting for a messiah to pull him out before
he dies completely in the beginning sting his swinging ring
leaving me with pity feeling in k!lling the mini me
hiphop is dead, hiphop is dead, hiphop is dead, hiphop is dead, hiphop is dead, hiphop is dead, hiphop is dead, hiphop is dead
he got a cut in the head, i’m tryna donate him some blood
no blurry blogger don’t slander me, the slaughtery’s the place you’ll end up
this is nostalgic, whenever stars die, it leaves the universe tragic

chorus (x3)

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