Strangle Hold

Lyrics

[Verse 1] Don't worship me, I ain't the Lord I'm a flaming sword with vocal cords that can strangle a St. Bernard I make sure when it rains it pours Start language wars until the fluid in your brain is forced to stain the floors My art is bold yet it's sort of cold Bite your face like crocodiles doing piles at the waterhole And once your camp is raided, bodies are laminated Maybe I'll kiss your ring once your hand is amputated There's morphine in my bar schemes I slept for fourteen seconds and had twenty-five eleven part dreams I got styles in all mixtures Bury you in the sheet rock behind family pictures in the wall fixtures The raps that sign, compile and attack minds And black your vital signs until your flatline flat-lines K-Rino the great highness teaching at the finest school where students get murdered for making a A-minus [Verse 2] When I swing every emcee ducks I'm the opposite of a menage a trois 'cause I don't give three fucks Greatness cannot be rushed When you breathe what I concede you heave of battery acid reflux I'm lancing you like a panther's tooth Catch you in your dancing suit, slice you into chunks and sell cans of you My pens are like poisonous syringes I go on war binges and launch missiles like bars from my jaw hinges Words I mention tend to dismember appendages Enter his temple then spit 'til his memory hemorrhages And when these rappers call, I'ma nap 'em all And need a paragraph-sniffing cadaver dog to find your dead catalog I'm flaming men if they ever mention my name again I claim I been through 20,000 pens like Chamberlain Don't believe I'm a trip, come and see a few clips I rip unreadable scripts that make vehicles flip [Verse 3] I bring to fruition atom-splitting cataclysms The anachronism with backwards vision and mad animal mannerisms Candles glisten as phantoms listen I channel out a random missions dismantling these planet systems My monograph's a clad infurious madness That smash physical masses to bacterial fragments My written enigmas are unsolvable I swept the crowd off their feet once they saw me sweep your feet off of you As for your flow, half a million folks heard the pose So no records were sold, meaning you went negative gold I was dropping new styles in school child By 22, I was removing crews and puttin' 'em on a frozen food aisle I got old temple gears in my head, infrared pencil lead What I said in November left December dead Me and my black-suited ruthless pals Boost morale by spewing paragraphs that hit like rotten tooth root canals