Lyrics of a song Saigon - Spit

Alba s touto skladbou: Roots , Spit, Side Fx, Katy Hudson, Honky Tonkin', Tabloid Crush, All In A Day's Work,

[Verse 1:]
On your mark get set go
The rest flow is just S-O S-O
So am I the best I guess so
I rhyme like my ribs and my stomach touchin
Gain pounds on these clowns like a hundred somethin
Behold the prophecy peep
The mold in my philosophy deep
Contemplate crime playing for keep
Elevate and reconstruct got rhymes that erupt
From my brain and then they drain right into a cup
From which I drink then I think deeper in and it'll sink
From a dark hall in my skull and then into ink
That's a old school metaphorical phrase
I shit, shower and shave
Then it's time to get paid get out of the way
I'm like a bat out of hell how I'm hitting these hoes
You swear a nigga just got out of jail
I'm a MC slash stick up kid
Ask Bishop all the shit I did
I ain't playing with'em

[Chorus: x2]
When I spit the room temperature change
I am what many consider a spitter of flames
When I spit the room temperature change
What niggas done did to the game the shit is a shame

[Verse 2:]
We could discuss disgust plus lust and what it does to us
Not only bust cause I must I bust cause I love the rush
Plus checks that I collect to bust techs at suspects
Marksmen in the linen we don't come off as roughnecks
Sick sick sick sick sick shit
The flow is flowing fluid like liquid
Even jamaicans be saying my shit wicked
Ya'll should believe me I shoudln't even have to kicked shit
But look you still lying in your raps and
Always acting like you dying for some action
But we really know you not though
You not no vato loco you a twat bro for sho
I'm a get rich or die tryin like fifty
Even if I gotta do something that tight risky
Pass me the hen bitch I don't like wisky
My gun snap crackle and pop like rice crispy

[Chorus x2]

[Verse 3:]
I flex on your entire set rhyme in nine different dialects
Fire techs aim where your knee and your thigh connects
I contracting like isometric exercise
Let's collide last nigga that tried molecular fried
Beside I can see in your eyes you petrifried
I'm a let you slide without a lyrical hex supply
Let's decide niggas fall short like a midget on a ball court
Coming with that wack rap that store bought

[Chorus x2]

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