Sesta - Posse Cut (2013 Golden Era Records Cypher) lyrics

[Currently Transcribing] [Verse 1: Briggs] Not even Jesus crossed the G.E. squad Sacrifice mo'f**ers to appease a God Got the brothers on the screen, not a scene from Cops Get punched in your face when the peace is off: Lebron Carry the Heat, give me a beat that knocks Embarra**ing defeat, in the street with Crocs I'm off everything, that's no weed or grog I'm not DMX, I'll feed your dogs You're not fit to kick the tires on my ride, but Here's the keys, now park it when I arrive It's a shake down like Parkinson's on the mind I'ma break down the barriers when I'm inside To smack the act that [?] on sight Just a matter of fact, just a matter of time Maybe better than him, you're not better than I Admit it, [?] a hatch for batting your eyes [Scratches/Hook: Adfu] "Ask your friends who's the illest Who's—Who's—Who's—Who's the illest Ask your friends who's the—who's the illest" "But who [?] the illest? Think we all know the answer to that" [Verse 2: Vents] Yo, yo I've been living in the circus and dying in the fast-food service I'm 'bout to drop from the last two burgers Every man alive on the Earth need a purpose Without that we hopeless, concerned with that Which lack depth, that which lack virtue The plastic, the cosmetic, that which'a hurt you What you turn to in times of need To forget about the fact we designed to bleed? Blow weed from the seeds in the sheep [?] Ask yourself, "What's the reason you breathin' for?" We both the same, no time for emotional pain Soak the [?] in disposable flame I'm like an animal that travel on the toughest terrain f**ing insane is what I became, nuttin to gain But the lot and nuttin to lose but the plot Golden Era in the place, getting loose in the spot, what? [Scratches/Hook: DJ Reflux] "Ask your friends who's the illest" "Who the illest? We all know the answer to that" [Verse 3: Trials] It's the Golden Era, you couldn't fold a feather Tough guy, I'll punch you in the face when my shoulder's better That's never, bet I still burn a s**er down to ashes Before you pour your first water buckets out We are cla**ic like Newman in Jura**ic Running back to his Jeep with his face full of acid Two-thousand-three when the step-daddy entered Top on my bucket list is 'Met Larry Emdur' Storm Boy drunk off that pelican blood Screaming "Amitriptyline's a f**in' hell of a drug" I'm gettin' live in the foyer, Trials the destroyer Sentence so good like I'm Heisenburg's lawyer Yo, they want that Hell level impact? My rhymes are heavyweight like putting bricks in a bin bag Trigger, Gumby even catching the ball Fit rapper on the track, but least fashionable [Verse 4: Hons] [?] two-thousand-thirteen unlucky for some Unless you run with Golden Era then you doubling up You see, the rap game change, you get punished for your laziness Album cycles life's too short like Warwick Davis is Never here to make a mint, sh**, the only one I'll probably see is on my pillow when I go vacationing Oar's been patient more than ten years into rap Long time coming like a double strapped to Jimmy hat Gimme that beat, let me get in the mood I scribble down some dumb sh** like a drunk tattoo See we got Reflux and Adfu, DJ Debris Add seven deadly sins, one for each MC Golden Era motherf**er, we the cream of the crop X and T smoked past so I'ma finish it off Now that's cla**ic, you wanna bring it with that rap sh** Then you going down like the hat went backwards [Verse 5: Sesta] It goes one for the money, nobody for the love it And your only friend want a cut of it, man You're not the problem, just a part of it and It's very obvious like making love for the f** of it They say that imitation's greatest form of flattery But actually it's not, no, I'm just taking the piss But when I'm seventy I bet I'm living all my dreams In the day getting faded playing Fallout 3 See, I'm here to show you s** on a [?] And you can scrap your f**ing belief Before I'm leaving I'll be needing to be teaching the kids That religion's not bad, but believing it is Golden Era, give you the golden shower You cower, is how you're dealing with power [?] with trouble f**ing with me See ya, anybody is never trouble to me [?] [Scratches/Hook: DJ Debris] "Ask your friends who's—who's—who's the illest Ask your friends who's—who's the illest Who's the—who's the—who's the—who's the illest" [Verse 6: Pressure] [?] with the most dangerous squad With the mic and turntable on lock 'Cause man, we lacing our creation of the traces of rot They had a day for every hater, but try taking my spot If I had more time on my hands than the face of the clock Golden Era's like a rush for the brain, a runaway train We cut the breaks, run astray, hunger and pain So f** with the game, you too afraid of touching the flame Twenty-four carat pure, s**er, what's in a name? If Heaven is a place on this Earth then I've been on the wrong Highway to Hell and that this stage is my church Only thing they hold sacred's what I say in a verse Until Suffa gets 'em naked as the day of my birth! (Whoa) If I make it home another wonder unravels Debris surfing p**n channels, Suffa's huntin' for samples I got more kids tying me down than f**ing Gulliver's Travels So tie it up, I put my nuts in a landfill [Verse 7: Suffa] [Verse 8: K21]