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Emperor's New Clothes (Demo)

REIGN OF TERROR on April 07, 2013 18:24

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    Reign of terror in your area,
    Causing mass hysteria

    Verse 1 (Bruce Li):
    They say penny for your thoughts, it’s more expensive when I'm pensive,
    Plenty of scents, the smell of success what I'm sensing.
    Better pen a check to spend before I lend more than a sentence
    Yes relentless, of course cuz when I pen I'm winning pennants.
    Never penance, this court is giving innocents the sentence
    And the fortune’s for the bold, so apprehend the apprehensive.
    Try to defend it, I'm a killer check forensics
    Well I guess that’s my intention, dead presidential incentives.
    Get the message? Yes they best inaugurate the kid,
    A lot of greats are dead so I would contemplate instead
    What I got at stake I won't mistake the thoughts up in my head,
    I will not delay I’ll make the world acknowledge words I said.
    Precocious with the flow you couldn't notice when I wrote this
    But then I spoke this and put the world underneath my hypnosis,
    With the ticking of the pendulum, pay critics no attention cuz I make em stick it up I'm sick as fuck they never bend a thumb,
    But if they do then i dismember em.
    Now the beat is getting numb,
    Fuck em with flow and when I'm done I make December come.
    Spit it wish you comprehend it,
    Yes I'm the beginning and the finish, so I indent then end it.

    If you don’t get my shit, well shit…Then gon run that shit back, gon run that shit back
    Every time that I rap each line, have to tap rewind, that’s a fact,
    Gon run that shit back (x5)
    Every time that I rap each line have to tap rewind, that’s a fact,
    Gon run that shit back

    Verse 2 (Ryan Kelly):
    My words come off the paper like a pop-up,
    Wicked stiff lips to the kids your damn sons and ya daughters,
    Bringing rap back to all the boys and girls,
    From teeny boppers to the coppers and the ones with the curls.
    Comin up fast like hurl, reachin quick for the porcelain,
    Cause more dro and more jack proceeds to give me more spins.
    So get, riled up, cause my mad dough piling up,
    The final resting place of prezzies worth a mothafucking milli yup.
    Kick the cuff rocking skinny things tight on my nuts,
    Shooting up silly string fucking snow on the bluff.
    Tux and tie black on white getting jiggy with the junk,
    Spitting ten millie words with subs bumping in the trunk.
    It's the bad boy on the track,
    The bad kid stealing all your toys on the track,
    The only kid to kick it like Freud on the track,
    Flip your channel back I'm repping white noise no black,
    No, Miss Mary Mack,
    With the, most beef rapped since the motherfucking BIG Mac,
    Bust gats smack ass through a plug in my damn Mac,
    While a bitch blowing me down like a motherfucking stick stack.



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