Lyrics Eardrum - Supastition

Scratch While I kick facts, react on funky tracks
This here is something stupid for the eardrums
This is rap, for real
Wanna hear something slick, son? then here it comes
You know this my type of vibe. That Supa shit! Croup! Let′s rock...
One:
It seems like my essence is fluorescent, my messages shine in the dark
And my perspective, professors define this as art. no weapons or records about how my nine and my semi spark
No techs in my dresser, just lectures from John Henrik Clarke to keep my mental sharp for serpents that I cross
Quick to push a weak disc jockey right off his high horse
I'm spilling my feelings, real, it′s nothing acrylic
There ain't a liquor facility that can bottle up my thoughts get 5 stars for my stage presence, it's on caliber
With the great legends, swinging the excalibur to slay peasants
Murder any track from Metallica to break records
Hang all my challengers by their fake necklace
You write crime novels, I speak life and recite verses
That mind boggle, listeners respond "Bravo!" brothers and sisters all over the world love to listen
You barely noticed by the people in your subdivision
Scratch While I kick facts, react on funky tracks
This here is something stupid for the eardrums
This is rap, for real
Wanna hear something slick, son? then here it comes
Two:
I′m a savage or beast when attacking the average beat
Like Louis jazz scatting, my patterns are rather unique this for the urban avenues and the streets, niggas with attitudes
This music ain′t compatible for Malibu Beach
I'm Derrick Rose, your generic flows are more like Gerald Henderson
I′m solo so it's me against the fucking world scrimmaging
No censoring, my supporters respect thorough penmanship
You venturing into singing, hoping that girls are into it
You weak dudes easy to see through as cheap jewels
A bunch of punching in vocals, heavy edits, and EQ′s I mistreat fools who try to sell me a beat used I kick your face in 'til my feet′s like Iron Sheik shoes
I refuse to be cool and cordial with posers
These corporate vultures would pimp their daughters for exposure
I'm willing to sacrifice a million to have my rights
Powered by my hunger, your thoughts dictate your appetite
My audio recordings haunt 'em, leave ′em sort of shook
Lyrically, I′m the iron chef, the rest are short order cooks
This is gourmet seasoned fricassee sautéed
I'm the reason why your time at the top was a short stay
The rawest dude in the place, who can debate?
You Nightcrawler niggas talk until your blue in the face
I′m one of North Carolina's indisputable greats
Worldwide reputed, making my best music to date, you damn straight
Scratch While I kick facts, react on funky tracks
This here is something stupid for the eardrums
This is rap, for real
Wanna hear something slick, son? then here it comes