Текст песни Personal Combat - Mic Bles

This is a personal combat
The combatants can choose any weapon and shield they desire
War Games, War Games
Unleash the brainstorm to make something kinda lyrical
War Games, War Games

Yo its the bar Armageddon you slipping and never caught again
Beg your pardon the artisan slaughtering with the heart of men
These guys in disguise on mics I'm poltergeist
Saliva turns to ice you closer to meeting Christ
Needle to the vein man, the tongues like the guillotine
Dopamine adrenaline rushing in when the pen bleeds
Never hesitated the chrome will make em levitate
Known for separating your skulls from your vertebrae
Every line is precise turn bright minds illiterate
Known to shatter, bone pierce hearts and torn ligaments
Thoughts are suicidal, the psychopath to lunacy
Leave another circus rapper hang'em by his jewelry
Ambulance sirens firing close your eyelids
Tyrants prone to violence inmates run the asylum
The tax collector we ain't never been sentimental
Another body identified by his dental records

War Games, War Games
Unleash the brainstorm to make something kinda lyrical
War Games, War Games

Yo shit is sick but they lovin it
Inflicting damage from the pain and the suffering
Death by design pantomimes with no vital signs
You're witnessing the faces of death through the cameras eyes
Strangled by his necklace making him meet his exodus
Buried your body with your label and executives
And to the clowns in the game with the theatrics
There's a war going on outside this shit is practice
I be the bar architect with the lecture that is septic
Constructing words for the narcoleptic
Spit the acid the shock anaphylactic
No compassion paralysis to these actors
Choose your weaponry knowing that the god will eat'em
Entering alive but you leaving in the mausoleum
Found him missing from his people all he left with sneakers
And the residue of blood on the church steeple

War Games, War Games
Unleash the brainstorm to make something kinda lyrical
War Games, War Games