Immortal Technique - Locked Up Freestyle lyrics

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Immortal Technique - Locked Up Freestyle lyrics

Yo,You're not as cold as me, motherf**er stop pretending I'll murder you in front of your crib like John Lennon Rip the tendons out of your muscle to cut the tension I'm beyond your comprehension like related subatomic particles and fifth dimensions Suspension in your breathing is what I'm leaving until a legion Of demons whisper the meaning of life in your ear Right before they make your motherf**ing life disappear But just because you hear the multi-syllabic grammatical Don't compare me to rappers that are on sabbatical Because I never did business in little f**ing Italy I play checkers on triple-decker tour buses in Tripoli The way that you typically bicker with me inexplicably Is a mystery that pisses me off ridiculously Because I'm lyrically beyond your level scientifically Specifically spitting out the spic in me prolifically I'm the majority of America futuristically After I die, f** my music, you'll feel me spiritually Darker than Sicily ripping above the averages You hold no weight, like b**hes after miscarriages And your label produces no kids like gay marriages I'm disparaging every fake thug rapper in sight That's why your f*ggot a** will never make it into the light I'll crack your skull when I smash your face into the mic And now you know what I'm like I'll Suge Knight the industry, I feel like the spirit of Nat Turner got into me You're infinitely hopeless, you sound like sh** when you spit live Like Jennifer Lopez, I'll ma**acre a rich rapper And all his broke friends, and go to Club Cheetah Rocking some blood-soaked Tims, party crashing, animal-f**ing model b**hes Leaving their stick-figure anorexic p**y in stitches My verbal blitzes outshined your offense You're watered down nonsense, and I'm two-hundred proof Choking the local youth in this home-made vocal booth You're a f**ing incompetent k**er like Rae Carruth And I'm Technique, the rawest n***a ever produced I spit nastier than regurgitating period juice So burn your f**ing rhyme book Stay warm, and put it to good use I'm about to drop like frozen airplane-sh** through your roof And I'm sick of fake hustlers telling lies to the youth You never robbed Dominicans, and you couldn't sling rocks if you was Palestinian You broke motherf**er, you cats don't burn rubber You n***as can't even get a f**ing cab like Danny Glover You ain't hardcore, I'll smack the sh** out of your mother You wanna be gutter? I'll leave you laid out in the street Signed yours truly, the motherf**ing Immortal Technique