paroles de chanson Allstar Cipher - Wordsworth , Tonedeff , Substantial
Your
majesty,
makes
casualties
of
wack
emcees
Catch
you
off
guard
like
niggas
speaking
japanese
Mics
I
have
to
seize,
I'm
Duracell,
You're
dollar-store
batteries
With
that
wackness,
please,
send
your
weak
records
back
to
the
factories
I
shop
in
Delaware,
ain't
nobody
taxing
me
Not
unlikely,
well
actually
We
come
hotter
than
big
pun,
you
still
don;
t
sound
fat
to
me
We're
bananas
like
a
daiquiri,
haven't
you
heard?
They
say
3 is
the
magic
number,
Dominion's
the
magic
word
I'm
stabbing
your
nerves
with
the
pens
that's
in
your
pocket
protectors
Blocking
you
set,
knock
your
head
right
off
the
top
of
you
neck
I'm
blocking
your
tech.
Mad
malicious,
crazy
vicious
Your
rhyme
was
weak
as
fuck,
I
thought
that
you
were
blowing
kisses
Whole
crew
got
issues.
I
ain't
got
time
to
diss
you
I'm
the
shit,
Only
foes
are
diapers
and
Scott
tissue
Competition
I
rip
through.
You
can't
tear
shit
And
the
only
projects
you've
ever
been
through...
is
Blair
Witch
I
can't
hold
a
job,
because
I'm
so
sick
I
always
call
out
Make
rappers
shit
enough
bricks
to
build
a
small
house
My
records,
if
they're
all
out,
buy
the
mixtape
I
ripped
it,
unless
the
DJ
screamed
over
my
lyrics
Nasty,
I've
been
called
the
MAN
lately
Locked
up,
a
ladies
man,
will
turn
to
a
man's
lady
I
heard
your
freestyles,
and
all
the
songs
you
come
with
You're
not
developed,
you
should
climb
back
in
your
mom's
stomach
Wordworth's
about
to
make
your
whole
style
plummet
I
got
a
hundred
of
different
styles
Matter
of
fact,
I
got
a
hundred
of
women
That
means
I
got
about
a
hundred
of
different
childs
Or
children,
I've
been
building
Raps
are
just,
be
fulfilling
my
obligations,
this
is
my
job
and
my
occupation
And
I'm
sorry
if
I'm
rhyming
at
your
own
show,
then
I
got
you
waiting
Hired
MCs
occupation
is
to
rock
the
nation
I'm
happy
rocking
the
basement
Word
Up,
Cause
I
don't
need
to
rock
a
whole
population
of
small
nations
Three
people
is
enough,
cause
my
rhymes
that
rough
and
tough
I'll
call
your
bluff,
call
you
up
and
hang
up
Click!
Leave
you
alone
with
the
phone
and
the
dialtone
A.L.
show
'em
Now,
you
couldn't
take
me
out
if
you
had
a
chaperone
What!
I
kill
MCs
over
the
phone
So,
call
the
fire
guards,
and
red
alert
Cause
I
kill
MCs
through
your
MHz,
my
baretta
jerks
Kills
MCs
off
the
top
of
the
brain
Your
girls
giving
me
brain,
cause
AL
is
insane
You
know
the
name,
el
nombre
I
do
it
in
Spanish,
MCs
stepping
to
me,
of
course
they
vanish
Spenglish
or
Spanglish,
whatever,
que
loco
tu
qiuera
AL,
fuera
fuego
Given
any
instance
in
time,
I
split
the
rhythm
in
a
million
pieces
Pull
tubes
on
scuba
gear
to
disable
the
breathing
features
I'm
fabled
in
regions,
that
I've
hardly
seen
or
dreamed
of
even
Elvis
believes
I'm
the
king
because
I
stole
the
crown
from
Stephen
I'm
overachieving.
Y'all
niggas
snoring
or
sleeping
Need
to
WAKE
THE
FUCK
UP,
game
point
for
PLAYAS
scoring
a
beating
The
Foreman
of
freedom,
when
you
let
me
on
Cause
after
you
hear
us...
you'll
never
wanna
go
back
like
Elian
Yo,
what
the
hell
he
on?
He
be
buggin
out,
when
it's
a
hot
track
now
you
can
tell
we
on
You
prolly
got
some
radiation
inside
of
your
brain
and
a
tumor
from
hearing
This
because
your
celly's
on
But
wordsworth'll
come
across
any
station
You
prolly
jotting
this
down
for
your
documentation
This
is
something
off
the
top
of
the
dome,
I
didn't
write
it
But
I
know
I'll
be
killing
all
you
rappers
sooner
or
later,
cause
I'm
a
psychic
You
gotta
like
it
He's
a
psychic,
and
I
got
my
sidekicks,
PackFM
You
can't
rush
it,
going
biking,
while
you're
pedaling
Yo,
I
fucking
roll,
pumping
like
adrenaline
My
shit
is
ill,
I'm
under
your
skin
just
like
the
melanin
PackFM,
last
name
is
an
acronym,
I'm
smackin
men
Um,
fucking
getting
your
shit
pumped
just
like
an
abdomen
A
Six
Pack,
Yo,
you
get
your
shit
back
Call
the
dispatch,
because
your
shit's
wack
Yo,
get
off
the
dick
black
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