Jon Murdock - Deadly Impact lyrics

[Intro: Jon Murdock] Yeah, motherf**ers It's the Dutchmen, what? [Verse 1: Jon Murdock] Original soundtrack, the foul weather now or never Out for cheddar, style is better, sound is clever, Alca-treasure San Fran, Sandman, Van Damme Spin kick, when it land, fam? KO, you can't stand Right hook until my hand jam, it's your last stand Like custard, musket, trained in the badland f** this, dust spliffs, blaze in my man's land Hustlers love this, they say, "That's my damn jam" Vanderslice you to pieces, you need Jesus Grab the knife till your spleen splits, my team's swift Grammar's nice, when he spits, the beat kicks Like Bruce Leroy, B-boy, peep this The illustrator, k** a stranger in the feel of danger But still a savior, ill with flavor when I spill and blaze ya Conceal the razor in my grill until I peel your face up Run in the bank with a shank, f**er, fill the case up [Interlude: Lex Starwind] Lex Starwind, n***a Foul weather, yo [Verse 2: Lex Starwind] Foul weather off of the shore, these kids lost in Diamonds, shining in the maelstrom, they flossin' Mayflower slave ship, bound to hit Boston Torch 'em, burn 'em in the flames, it'll cost 'em Sodium, Cyanide tablets, broken through the fabric Of life's fragile shell till they cracked it Savage, venom laced tapes, not your average You f*ggot, it's duck season, you silly rabbit Dutchmen crush men off the shores and never been there Deep impact, monsoons, so bring your swimwear Nightmare, three parsecs to your light year Around the universe and back but still right here Appear from nowhere, return to the same place An alternate plain of reality, different space Where the world line helix, space-time prefix To your own existence of future, you couldn't see sh** [Interlude: Grand Scheme] The Dutchmen Grand Scheme, yeah [Verse 3: Grand Scheme] I puff enough dust to bungee jump from a satellite Reenact the Black Dahlia murder with a rainbow knife Your mouth scream "gangster" but your outfit scream "hermaphrodite" I squeeze around your neck till you changing color like traffic lights I grab the mic, and drop verses so outlandish You couldn't scratch the surface of my words with belt sanders This upstanding, pushing trash like Fred Sanford Only time you should be feeling yourself is for breast cancer I make you an example and impale you on the mic stand I slay rappers at random, they cancer to f**ing lifespan The Dutchmen, spit that fly sh**, design the flight plans Drinking Jack Daniels, busting handguns at your hype man I come from nightmares, created by Wes Craven While you perpetrating for it, we coming with guns blazin' f** the law, what's more wake than circuit trainin'? I'm a f**ing cult cla**ic, amazin's an understatement