Hemlock

Lyrics

Mr. Voodoo ft. L-Swift, K.A., and A-Butta - "Hemlock" [Emcee(s): Mr. Voodoo] [Producer(s): Charlemagne] [Sample (Hook/Riff): Herbie Hancock - "Oliloqui Valley" (5:00)] [Additional Vocals/Hook: L-Swift, K.A., and A-Butta] [Verse 1: Mr. Voodoo] I was Standing on the corner, just-a wasting my time when I realized I was the king of the rhyme. I got On the microphone to let niggas see supremacy Is my legacy, my weaponry's besting niggas In telepathy. I'm more untouchable than leprosy Come off wretchedly with lyrics filled with lechery So don't step to me with treachery. Rapper after rapper I consecutively blow out their trajectory Perspectively, I'm nice, but I hate to brag, and if Mics were a gun, then mine's a .45 mag Niggas that are snitches are really bitches in drag Swig 'til I swag, sizzle my brain, die and go On to another plane. Out of nowhere I came Pack flame with the Lee Harvey Oswald-type aim My sounds be booming, flows are consuming like I'm not human Not normal, not mortal, but cybernetic Lyrics embedded, ready to set it, so whoever steps here Is getting shredded from the right to the left ear I'm so cool, I got formaldehyde in my vein My flow is hemlock, leaving wack emcees slain [Hook: L-Swift, K.A., Mr. Voodoo, and A-Butta] [L-Swift and (K.A.)] I got it Hemmed up, kid. (I got it locked down). Yo, I got it Hemmed up, kid. (I got it locked down). Check it, I got it Hemmed up, kid. (I got it locked down). Word up, I got it Hemmed up, kid. (I got it locked down) [Mr. Voodoo and (A-Butta)] So taste the hemlock, y'all. Taste the hemlock (Right, right) A taste of hemlock, y'all. Taste the hemlock (Right, right) A taste of hemlock, y'all. Taste the hemlock (Right, right) A taste of hemlock, y'all. Taste the hemlock (Right, right) [Verse 2: Mr. Voodoo] I'm catching FCC fines for foul thoughts on my mind Dangerous like a ride on the G Line, relying on lines That make niggas feline 'cause their flows is type benign Mr. Voodoo kicks behind simply with fly rhymes that I'm Using, I be bruising, causing multiple contusions, live in Constant confusion, street fights with bloody conclusions Don't sell niggas illusions. A nine's my solution Heads I truly fry, niggas I cootchify, bag their honeys If they're cutie-pies, leave it alone if the cooty fries Criminal activity holds me in captivity With smooth rap flow, I cap a capo, I control A crowd like F.O.I. when I'm dropping meteors And you won't see me on TV in bikini drawers Or hard-rock clothes, singing like a pussy-whipped hoe. As I grow My genesis makes peace to friends and instant nemesis My dome explodes emcees, feed on the flow like photosynthesis, son You know the prophet who gets biz on any topic Shoot rap, grab my profit. Fucking with me is toxic 'cause [Hook: L-Swift, K.A., Mr. Voodoo, and A-Butta] [L-Swift and (K.A.)] I got it Hemmed up, kid. (I got it locked down). Check it, I got it Hemmed up, kid. (I got it locked down). Word up, I got it Hemmed up, kid. (I got it locked down). Peep it, I got it Hemmed up, kid. (I got it locked down) [Mr. Voodoo and (A-Butta)] So taste the hemlock, y'all. Taste the hemlock (Right, right) A taste of hemlock, y'all. Taste the hemlock (Right, right) A taste of hemlock, y'all. Taste the hemlock (Right, right) A taste of hemlock, y'all. Taste the hemlock (Right, right) [Verse 3: Mr. Voodoo] I'm di- -ssecting the vital organs of once-dope Emcees who have now gone-a foreign. They used to be hardcore When the dough started pouring, they turned into A bunch of suited-up penguins in glittering sequin Rap's last beacon, what I speak weakens knees of deacons, I make Type-O flow to streets. Who flows to beats? The Mr V-double-O-D-O-twice, repeats Macho like Hector Drink devils' nectar, then play D.L. like a defector Mental receptors is setting off metal detectors Snake's bane in my vein makes me a nerve-wrecker, master A racket like Boris Becker. Lethal lecture? I pack it Then bust the fatness that's most emphatic. Emcees with wackness Is getting more shots in the back than a faggot I steal and rob before I kneel and bob for mass appeal Still got it locked like N.A. Rock hold down the block So know your limit, find someone else's flow to mimic, sing A soldier's hymn like Folgers, fill me up to the brim Drop a gem rock and paralyze limbs with the hemlock [Hook: L-Swift, K.A., Mr. Voodoo, and A-Butta] [L-Swift and (K.A.)] I got it Hemmed up, kid. (I got it locked down). Word up, I got it Hemmed up, kid. (I got it locked down). Peep it, I got it Hemmed up, kid. (I got it locked down). Word up, I got it Hemmed up, kid. (I got it locked down) [Mr. Voodoo and (A-Butta)] So taste the hemlock, y'all. Taste the hemlock (Right, right) A taste of hemlock, y'all. Taste the hemlock (Right, right) A taste of hemlock, y'all. Taste the hemlock (Right, right) A taste of hemlock, y'all. Taste the hemlock (Right, right) [Outro: Mr. Voodoo] Yeah, this is Mr. Voodoo. Wanna send a shout-out to the Fortress family. Peace to my man Charlemagne. Peace to man Big TIM. Peace to my man G-Blass. Peace to L-Swift, K.A., my man Howie Smalls. Peace to man Koran. Peace to Uptown. Peace to my man Craig. Peace to Brooklyn. Peace to everyone out there that keep it real. And I'm out