Buttatones - Living Art lyrics

[Cliff Clavin] Cliff get it popping, nah I get it cracking like your ribs b**h and you about to witness a homicide Body beats, murderlizing microphones You oughta be inferior to me or Mr. Tones So pardon me if I'm projecting aggression Verbal barbarian get you wrecked in a session My primitive image is symbiont no gimmicks in this Just k**ing sh** from beginning to finish I drop the bomb leaving rappers airborne And I write so many rhymes the metacarpal in my hand gone Too many talking tough with them and they mans on Only time you playing friction's when you giving out handjobs I'll bring the heat singing 16's, it's Doc Gooden We doing music when the rest of y'all couldn't Gunning for these rappers man y'all better start running Cuz when I come around, oh boy watch your number [Hook - Tones] When I diss your squad it's to prove your sh** ain't hard We are living art, you're better off tryna spit at God Cuz the mind's sicker and the mud's thicker You die quicker man, I could give a f** with ya [2x] [Tones] Design rhymes like Da Vinci, I'll make your pen bleed Drink tears of wannabes, write with blood of pure emcees Born ready, holding a gallon of gasoline Free a bad 16 and still smash your spleen A math degree, I mean Wallace in a bag They aren't hardcore no more, they following the f*gs Swallowing a gag, when I laugh it sound like a cackle When these clowns get me out the underground to battle I climb out the gates, spit my rhymes in your face Quit rap once again and make a dime give me brains In a race to the end, you stuck in the middle You heard a BLAH-BLAH don't even give a f** a little One punch would k** you, your tissue's made of pillow You did it to yourself, diss you cuz you play with dil*os Blaze an ill flow like setting fire to my pew You make liars out the youth, we inspire with the truth (Hook) [Coal Cash] I'll rip certainly, cleaning your cervix on a murder spree Decree a lethal verdict when I split your skull vertically Serving it perfectly, surging a circuit to murk the beat The streets keep nervous, my purpose to murder circus free I speak the furnace heat, eating through burners When it turn to beef the feast on the surface release the serpent beast Cease your service, a wordsmith splitting [?burgers?] I'ma burn this b**h bad and make flags of your epidermis I'ma turn this cannibal pick in my teeth with your clavicle Got a magical dick, plug a drip in your b**h's vaginal Spit mechanical with a clique of the sickest animals A gravital force with the thoughts that'll warp your manual An annual visit to this granular called the planet ?? famish fakes, stuff face with a taste of granite So panic like it ain't safe, it's a raid from outer space With a taste for cadavers, a hazard of savage hate (Hook)