Strangeulation II - Tech N9ne feat Stevie Stone, Murs, Brotha Lynch Hung & Godemis

[Verse 1 - Godemis:]
Prayin' that 12-12 for hell
Felon to sell and slept on a bed of nails like nothing I've ever felt
Ghost in a shell, was molded with other demons as
if I needed some help or a host to preserve the heathen
Got it, my brain is rotted
I swear to God that I'm not it
I'm set to go to the gallow as soon as the rope is knotted
I ain't high as the fire and I have unused adrenaline
Came in the cypher clean, still smelling like putrid cinnamon
Then I'm in, enemy of the state, I'm straight at an angle
Stop risking and quit your b_tchin', it ain't like I'm raping an Angel
Said I was magnifique, ya'll f_ckin' with it, kapeesh

[Verse 2 - Stevie Stone:]
Stevie Stone I'm on it I'm so clever
Nobody comparing 'em better
I put sh_t together
America's most elaborated rap pick yo head up
Small talkin' to get you wet up
Yeah, I'm will to kill all you n_ggas
The feelin', adrenaline that'll spillin' a milli yeah I mill' all you n_ggas
Ain't even reach out they [?] rather my sillin' on n_ggas
And backin' a back on back can't billy you n_ggas
Get busy on n_ggas
This ain't no [?] some leekage
Stonie in the building the b_tches pull out their cleavage
The snake and the bat you see them prominent features
The spieces
Strangeland we rain on your region
Meatwagon I come I be taggin' 'em
Baggin' 'em bring 'em clusters of three
Got three magnums gaggin' em out
You pussies is still talkin' I'm draggin' 'em out
I'm tappin' 'em out

[Verse 3 - Murs:]
Aww sh_t, they f_cked around and signed a backpacker
Smart, rich, handsome, plus he's not a bad rapper
I'm just a little local talent that f_cked around and made it big
Underground bully, pickin' on all these famous kids
And the danger is, Now I'm doin' Strange a biz?
About to make the world forget about what a major is
Independent Powerhouse, running all these cowards out
My enemies are all forgotten, wishin' I would shout em out
And I don't want to hear a rapper harmonize unless
He thuggish, ruggish, Lazy, Krayzie, Bizzy, Wish or Flesh
But maybe I'm just hatin' cuz my black ass could never sing
F_ck that autotune I hope the Futures filled with better things
And you a f_cking liar if you say you found a better team
Impossible! Like trying to fit my d_ck inside my wedding ring
And all the bread it brings will be distributed and properly
I represent for hip hop not some f_cking aristocracy

[Verse 4 - Brotha Lynch Hung:]
I'm the Martin Scorsese of rap, rap predator
Better than severin' the reverend with a jackknife
Kevin and eleven of 'em revvin' up the engines we bubblin' up like 7-Up
Then when we shoot that sh_t we eat that sh_t for din--din-ner
I don't need no f_ckin' "Ok", are you serious, I'm okay
I'mma make you bleed like it's your period, period
I eat period p_ssy so eating you ain't serious
What you need for me to flip that sh_t and rip that sh_t
Like a skitzo stick that sh_t, that sh_t like a automatic pistol grip
No, I created this fast rap, I'm past that
I put a gat in that asscrack and blast that
I'm lightyears ahead of 'em, might use the head of 'em
I lose, then you can keep the breadcrumb
My n_gga I'm a carnivore, ready for any kind of war, any kind of score

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