MARKED FOR DELETION - Russian Roulette lyrics

Intro over chorus: I ain't scared to play. Let me see that. What you doin? Your not playin this game right. You gotta spin it, spin it Just like that, spin the barrel. I'mma try it! Spin the barrel! Watch I ain't scared. Watch this, watch! *gunshot* [Thirstin Howl] Poured blood, ignored love, even Thor trusted a little devil In all us, the motor that keeps cheatin wives, lawns cut At a fallen temperature before I'm even warmed up At the speed of thought, thug n***as fight for a needless cause All you hear is "stop the stealing" when nearin stores Uncommon Valour with the French make players take the bench Above the rim without touchin the net Thirsty, greedy, sometimes desperate When I lock rap down I'mma b**by trap the exit Barracade the entrance, turn demonics screamin into harmless kids Whispers, no challengers Winnin the belt, if I say I'm top notch, I'd be just limitin myself MC's bore me like elevator music Street panhandlers with ?three-socket? sewage All A & R's named Ufid If life's a b**h I'm one of her two kids A motherf**er, if the show fits If rap was a school I'd be teachin at Yale's institution Brooklyn hardrock, with a toothpick Threatenin your life and safety with new risk Scillionaire, after I burn MC's I give 'em Information on free clinic care Chorus: All You get one shot, one chance to bust Who bust first? first to get slain Playin Russian roulette *repeat* [Mr. Metaphor] My lyrics sprout like a brussle, son I get you open like a ?claire-o? mussle, I might jam my knuckle Break it down raw like Brickface and stuck-o Eat you like a dick steak you f**o! *echoes* Whip you with my belt buckle, you wanna scuffle? Pull your card while you suffer, I bag your b**h like a duffle And grill you like a ?wild n***a? fall like ?Allah fall? I remove your tonsels I'm out for kids like youth hostiles Inhale force fires, blowin trees out my nostrils Diggin underground like carbon pipes outta fossils I wet you up like ponchos on a dark, stormy night And spark forty mics, I beat you up like forty dykes in Brooklyn You'll get taken, tooken for every nook and cranny I'll stick your daughter and the nanny, take your baby's candy Grab the brandy out the cabinet Take any found inhabitant and make his mind inadequate I spit my lyrics accurate, immaculate Its hard to capture it you don't got half my wit You better find an advocate to plead your rapture I leave your hands in the air, you leave in laughter Stuck in the intro, I'm on the final chapter Chorus [Pumpkinhead] I play roulette, with five bullets in the revolver The problem solver, rhyme evolver, descendent of Ghana Usin the marijuana to blaze n***as like lava Hot like sippin java in the sauna I'm cold blooded like iguanas My rhyme takes form, co*k back the hammer on the biscuit I make stroms, the weather wizard, hordes to never visit Heaven's gimmicks, my arms cross in b-boy positionin Mix hydro with nitroglycerin Pose with the mic in the tie hold lyrics hard like pistol whippen I studied out the n***a mysticism And still quick to catch you like prince of principal medism vision I'm about to pull the trigger gotta make a quick decision The sweat drippin cloudin my wisdom, lost my religion I guess thats the cost of livin in this world With no girl, no j**els or pearls Confirmed my new script, my thoughts is suicidal sick I pull the trigger all I hear is a click My thoughts is sick, I pull the trigger all I hear was a *gunshot* [Building Block] Then I rise and shine from lies to blind the mind's eyes And ties that bind, you'll find your rhymes are dime-sized Compared to mine, you got no concepts Eatin from my table of contents take words out of my context My language is, like Arabic too complex Got you mixed like marriages My songs flex from my larynx, vex ya like a labyrinth I stab ya with, my daggerith, your haverith The Block hit, toxic material thats hazardous Ya bring life like Christ of Nazareth, then Lazarous Fabulous how I be rackin, presence to rap kiss In fact this radioactive flows that hold you captive Tracton's own home is where this rapper roams And catacombs, trap your poems and stay witcha like chaperones Control it with a dart like Napoleon Bonaparte You get stoned and sparked, bones and burn poems like Joan of Ark Chorus