Enoch - Spoken For (Remix) lyrics

[Verse 1: Soarse Spoken] A formidable foe. Conformity's comfortable Y'all sacrificed content for a more diggable flow We're all sick of your ho. Act as a model citizen Popping bottles of hollow medicine—betcha these shots'll let ‘em in Ease that, let the beat lapse A mic's a wife to an emcee, so why's y'alls giving you feedback? Gather the crowd and move them—I'm a smooth cat Who only loses his cool when the crowd doesn't groove back Transmit lyrical transit. Rhymes are an oasis placed in a sand pit Y'all wanted in on the game but you can't fit ‘Cause I'm a monster in heat, pondering deep Rotten from the devils conquering me So stay patient. These radio waves communicated Through a radio slave station. Your heartrate's racing The sound is straight basement. A polished lecture My platoon carries canteens for the knowledge nectar From a fruit with a solid texture for those doubting scriptures A picture's worth a thousand words, but my word's worth a thousand pictures You fountain licks are earth works with a mountain mixture Guerilla music warfare. Bring the sound, the most The more vicious the flow, the more rare And I'm a creature in habit, blazing Here to speak to a savage nation I provide plenty food for thoughts, so feed your imagination [Verse 2: Cise Star] Folding you n***as in my soldier state, setting the stage for war With Air Force Ones, I'm walking through Kuwait Bulletproof bubble jackets, using my desert tactics Camouflage to my toes, trigger finger spastic Heavy in streets like 24s on box Chevies I rock steady on motherf**ers who ain't ready You swishers sweet. I'm Philly-blunt, so, “What the f**?” I'm dollar with mine—yo b**h-a**, nickel up The sign of the times—look at the dark skies Is it money or politics? What's your reason for rhyme, n***a? [Verse 3: Akin] I'm not content with they style they boast. And, so, I approach The mic with a fighter's ghost—spirit on my shoulder, older Wise and now I learn to be a soldier. You're a street soldier Phony emcees, your acting days are over Poof. But gone, you're not one to hear—look You not a real revolutionary—you's a punk crook For hire. My voice over drum inspire A young n***a to scream out, “We're living in fire” Grab your gun for war now—we marching as one Yo, the drummer boy toy with a beat—that's fun but hard My face scarred, though I'm ready for more A refugee far from home—yo, let's settle the score I cannot tire, fight ‘til my words expire Out of my mouth, I shout to the peasant empire Young boys with they pants sagging They probably bragging in cyphers They relayin' rhymes—tongues are magnums But only if you knew the might of your own words You gotta let 'em be, be free—one with the birds Moving in motion, see hypocrites approaching Tryna figure me out just to get me open And break me down. It's too late—they woke me now I'm feeling like Marx—they hate to embrace me now Those days are gone of wondering what's gon' happen Believing in Bush or running with the likes of Sharpton. Yo f** that! Believing in God, then trust that They bust at. Better bust back—it's on, n***as [Verse 4: Cise Star] Fire walk with me as I burn holes in the soles of your new kicks Come on, n***a, I'm going on Walking down the dirty streets and avenues I battle you, a duel to the d**h, 'cause I'm mad at you Not in the physical sense but on the defense Of the current events that showed your true nature Hate to love ya but love to hate ya b**h, I make you want to go see your maker Not violent but already excited Fist in the air, I go spark the riot If you want to try me, come hither and try it Behold the bold soul that stay strong, relying [Verse 5: Omniscient] I come through in a drop top limo like Kennedy Protected but not if the shooters is walking right next to me Check it. It was all a dream like Martin Luther Getting bucked overseas and, at the corner, you find the same shooter All for different causes, all with different bosses Stabbing n***as with they crosses—God finding corpses 20 dollar spliffs up in the air You know it's dead vision when there's nothing in the stare But it's all in the walk, the talk—we do our thing It's time I take action to the plan and to the ring Consistent with the jab, get the hit fix, rippin' 'em We paying for the war, raise tax, and keep gyppin' 'em It's all good 'cause you n***as keep it all hood Except you f**ing your own hood and that's not good Just do the math and you won't get the right answer We're doing surveilance while you getting watched like plasma