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lirik lagu hookless lines – rhyme molesters

[verse 1 * a2z]

fixated on my goal and i’m only gonna pursue it harder
fashioning the letters and the words into weapons and armour
crashing into battle on my steed of steel with the pen is mighty, my swords a steel nib
keeping the flow tight and i talk the real sh*t, yeah my pens a rundry and i’ll carve the lines
and i’m a northern wordsmith forging a meaning, feed the furnace til my thoughts are burning
and i’m turning the lifers from grey to red as i chat in cantations to raise up the dead
make the alphabet 25 letters instead, i got so hungry that i ate a z
i hate it when you fakers fail to see you ain’t the great mc you claim to be
your flavours dead, it’s weaker than xaviers legs
you just pace the stage and never turn a head
face it kid your only saving grace is making bad rappers seem as though they make the grade
so better step aside while i pave the way, i’m filling notebooks while you browse paperchases
crazy to think i be spraying this now
i never used to know the words but i knew how they were gonna sound like
hearing the thunder before the lightning hit the ground
something was stirring inside and it was ready to come out
a storm on the tip of my tongue, the cloud ready to burst
i flood the earth with words and song
stepped up, held on, stood firm and strong
cleared my throat and told the world where the f*ck i’m from
i’m wasted on the mic and yet i’m still quicker than some
finally chilling in the kitchen, sipping pitchers of rum
filling on coke, smoke and liquor til i can’t see straight
but i’m triple the fun, i’m switching it on
ride the track with no saddle, yeah i’m k!lling it
i’m spitting like a million camels, i’m doing this without the gimmicks or flashy apparel
here and a2z is here to blow your mind as my name was double barrelled

[verse 2 * don scragjon]

yeah, control it like the third reich holding this mic
when the dons in town better duck down or f*cking take flight
hitler in this rap sh*t, not democratic i leave the crowd gassed
plus i act erratic when i blast fast
on the beat i’m midas, i might just take out your t**th with pliers to feel righteous
film me getting under your skin like glass fibres
dramatic and dis*functioning like crash diets
it’s the best, b*ttons will be pressed
my sh*ts the real deal, your sh*ts g*yer than v fest
plastic content i rival that of the sea beds
the same drum beat, a usb full of presets
i make it rougher than toast topped with sawdust
for dinner in august with no water on your jaw bust enormous raw
the sprogs formed before us, your mind is (?) for the core supporters
and it’s a northern storm, avoid giving up this gift til i’m devoid of form
i employ the keen act to avoid a war
and toyed with sp*ce and time til my mind was sore
you see you’re talking when you shoulda been listening
now you’re p*ssing in the wind and missed the sound of the hurricane as it’s blowing in
seconds to react in fact, i’m flipping mumbling rappers like acrobats
in actual fact, a big mega bag of scr*ps
if given a pen, could pen a better verse for tracks
straight facts i don’t mean to depress the bloke
jehst or joke, you couldn’t find heart with a stethoscope
so guess who’s next to blow with textbook flow
little drunk flow, pr*ne to vex your dome
i see me cause i’m hating
but the scenes inundated with the sh*t that they’re making

- rhyme molesters

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