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Here's our entry for Funk Volume's "Don't Fu[n]k Up Our Beats 5" Contest!!
Watch the video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a7HlWqp-SnQ
Vote for us starting March 11th: https://apps.facebook.com/contestshq/contests/310855/voteable_entries/65487118
Beat is by DJ Hoppa, called "The Lost Cypher"
Check out marcusandrome.com
Moderation never made anybody the best
The combination is DEF, never takin' a rest
But I confess, these rappers make me wanna fall asleep
I see pussies full of hot air, now that's what I call a queef
Y'all should call it quits, cuz while you try to riff
As if you rip with more style (stal) than a bottle of Cris
I spit a "verse" more vast than the "uni-"
Corny rappers are puny, they don't got tunes they're just looney
The only reason they should be spittin' is if they blew me
They're down in submission yeah my rhythm is a roofie
You better be givin' it to me, the coldest rhymer breathin' molten lava's
Leavin minds open so on a side-note, you know that I'mma
Slick talker with a dick farther up a chick's garter
Than me on her father's hitlist, when he witnessed the dishonor
So you think this shit's funny?
I'll cut you up like a Dutch, to put it bluntly.
Every day I hear of rappers that rhyme
So many of em buzzin' tryna be the focus of discussion
Sayin' they made somethin' from nothin', I hear em buckin' and cluckin'
In klusterfuckin' bunches of cats, where am I? Well...
I operate independent of any trend
We're authentic; I reckon our records are always heaven-sent
I'm taking a risk when I get into my niche; I tend to get a bit twisted, inflicted
Many emotions that I'm holdin' but we will keep our faces open.
Hopin', we can rock em and sock em, poppin' em in a spot
With more shock than an apocalypse has got, my conglomerate's hot
I'm on a mission with a vision; I'm with it, bitches better witness the rhythmic
Cadences, I got a plate of em, you never ate a crumb.
So where do you place us, in a mess of fake stuff?
Unlike stereotypical battle rappers that ain't us,
We've got a gargantuan hunger for not givin' a damn if fuckers
Try to change us? I would never trade this up.
Verse 3 (Back & Forth):
So pay attention like you OD'd on Adderall
You wrote a dope verse? We got a whole catalog
Bash em all with a potential of a catapult
Cocked back, we're the shot that's coming right at you dog.
Let's get a bit faster Jack, all right Ben; I got a rap for that
And you do to we better come through with a massive attack for the half-assed
I like the sound of that man; motherfuckers shat their pants
Battle us here, fast a year, and still you'd have a fat chance.
You know it's M&R, givin' you a seminar
We're comin' to fuck minds; two nuts ready to bust rhymes
Much time's meant to be able to try and deliver the vibe
Making the people abide by nothin' fuck the guidelines.
Along with the limit going strong to the finish
I'm off to another sentence; I'm honest you gotta be kiddin'
With that shit, comin' out your lips, better get a grip, you're 'bout to slip
We didn't fuck up the beat; we just rubbed its...TITS.