Untitled Song #2

Lyrics

Nick Wiz ft. Nautilus - "Untitled Song #2" [Emcee(s): Kaos and Mad] [Producer(s): Nick Wiz] [Verse 1: Kaos and (Mad)] Kaos, the unsolicited tactician Paragraph-flipping, leave your faggot ass ripping Throwing claps to the squishy tracks for the Mushy raps sounding like Josie and the Pussycats But here it comes: the Kaotic individual Melodical original, phenomenal residual I'll twist 'em off like plastic tops with Gymnastic props and shoot 'em up like astronauts But who knows what powers the fanatic? Devours the dramatic when planting flowers in the attic It's one tough fact to follow, but you know the motto: I'll pull a number like the lotto in Colorado Many get maimed in the level from the brain Of the rebеl, the Tasmanian Devil When I lеt the vernacular rip, I'm like Packing a brick, I'm saying, "Whoo!" spectacular shit Coming to get 'em like I'm Venom, yo, it's a habit Peace to K.L., Low Cash, and Wisdomatic So put the Venoms in position 'cause you know The best hook references this textbook definition Is it your fault to assume that I rub Salt in the wound and drink a quart on the moon? Yo, M-A-D. (What up?) Is you pumping and potent? (Yeah) Get on the mic and rip the party wide open [Verse 2: Mad] Deadly as a parasite transmitted through a satellite Getting ill reviews, and that's before I even grabbed the mic Let the beat kick—like a pilot, I'll get fly with it Think you're scoring? You'll be joining Jordan in retirement I don't drive. I drink and rhyme and get reckless Take a Mad verse, spread it on your toast at breakfast Skills out the anus with the shit that blows you brainless I'll rob and lynch Robin Leach—fuck the rich and famous Someone should call the lyrical police to come and arrest ya You don't wanna fuck around. I'm hanging niggas like air fresheners Two hundred competitors, two hundred failures that took Trips Down Under, and I don't mean Australia The sick, psychopathic type who shits in robes black and white Niggas bitching 'cause my styles are switching like a traffic light One, two combination—dip before I tag your grill Your shit is out-of-order. Here's a quarter—get a bag of Skittles Picture me giving you props—you'll never get that impressive Skills with the speech, but my development ain't arrested A farmer couldn't dig in me, y'all bums are like piss to me Fuck the Twin Towers—I'll bomb the Statue of Liberty You failed to understand I'll break you proper when I strike ya You couldn't kick shit playing soccer with a diaper No man can get with me. I'll slam and get shifty, not to mention The day that I get tossed, you'll see Onyx with extensions And it's like that, motherfuckers