Rates - Rappertag #12 | Season 2

Lyrics

[Intro] Yo, Rates One. Shoutout to Greeley for the tag. Let's go [Verse] Pass it to me, I'll target the beat like a carcass to eat I'm up for the task to compete, and I'm far from your reach I'm a phone bomb in a crowded street; I'm so wrong And just foul on beats, bound to drown in heat when I'm about to speak It's verbal acrobatics; I murder rappers in a second And I take him out the back to the paddock, burn him, then I drench him with petrol I'll get the flames up, "Now, what you fucking say, cunt?" I'm a family man and dedicated to my clan from day one I'm a funny drunk that your mum wants to hump I'm a fucking cunt When it comes to cunts, I'm just done with running amok But when I gamble now I double it up So when I walk out, I'm angry, looking for a rapper or someone to punch And now the trouble's begun, 'cause there's that rapper talking like he's always pumped with a gun Ask him about it, and the cunt starts to run Now this is typical or am I hypocritical? There's anger in my veins and then the pain, it is residual Never one for the Clone Wars, you got your legs open And you should close yours, that kind of attitude will close doors You pose for the pictures, flickering in the distance When you close your eyes, you wake up and it's gone in an instant And everything's just dissipated, look at me, I'm falling off Due to some non-participation, but me, I'm just sitting, waiting Till the fucking system's blazing, this shit's amazing I told them ages ago, but they told me I'm a skitz' and patient In a matter of a year, an experiment will stick your vein Actually it's insane how the news it gets in your brain Sorry that I'm feeling like you're jumping right up in a train Either I see it for what it is, or I've lost it again But anyway, not today, it's not the topic Hard to talk to everybody when everybody has lost it And I don't give a fuck about some clothes or how much they cost They want us all dumbed down, our soul faded and lost Straight to the shop for the next thing that they make in a box Label it as something you need, just like taking a shot Back to this rap shit with more verbal backflips All this cancel culture, should be cancelling this wack shit I'm a fucking beast when it comes to rap, [?] punching back You feel the weight of my soul, [?] it's something they lack I rap for cunts in the back; I ain't afraid to speak My mind, I got big nuts in my sack and I'll tell cunts that they're wack Look at these politicians, trust me, man, they're slimy cunts Look at these Big Pharma companies for whom you're lining up Look at these rappers, just acting, they don't really fight and stuff They just think that fighting's tough, when they more than likely run Well, time has come, I kill instrumentals for fun I raise my two kids properly, and I raise 'em with love Fucking crazy what this place has become, kind of can make you a cunt I find it can make you better if you not afraid of the front The devil works in mysterious ways, making a jump Making you think you're all that, ego crazy as fuck Have a go at this place, now what a piece of work I try to find some clarity, but all these demons lurk They breach the earth and now they're feeding on the people's purpose What an evil circus, they didn't need a disease to murk us Get 'em, because you know that I'm protective You know that I ain't ever gonna listen to a directive When it's all been shady from the start like a detective And you can't blame me if I go against the collective, so check it [Outro] Yo, next up, we got Smak. Kill it, brother