Undergods - Torsion Fields lyrics

Let me see ya hands We network power moves Keith Murray, Canibus Don't make your gun go click, click boom Create a whole genre The world ain't safe, there's no tomorrow n***a, this is 'Torsion Field' Attack the jugular, overk** Keith Murray and Canibus, what's the meaning? The hardcore n***as in the streets is fiending Make you play hide and go seek with your demons Ranting, raving, hollering, screaming [Unverified] Keith Murray, LOD, oh my god Keith Murray, Canibus, so damn hard We make them reminisce over you Undergods You can meet you maker, step into my face and you is a faker Hater, I'll see you later, I'll put you in an incubator You'll be dead and me and Canibus will be in Jamaica In Jamaica, guns shots up on ya Come in like a big p**y, don't you, where I'm gon' dump ya Expert flow Germaine, broad head, four-hundred grain I was entertained, I saw a hundred slain Deranged finder ranger reminder, paint the target Walk up to your forehead and paint across it Revisit that, give me a minute to re-edit the rap f** that, I'll put my fist in your trap n***a wanna spit, we spat, that's that What the f** you looking back for it's the last lap Got me in a ha**le, n***a acting like he wanna wrestle Smack DVD gun battle Torsion Field twist steel blow the air back off wheel You are dragged from the car and k**ed Ski mask face, no trace, rap sound like rape We gesticulate like apes on mixtapes This high fidelity, f** what they telling me No body address the beat like Canibus and Keith Murray "Raw to the floor, raw like 'Reservoir Dogs'" Undergods coming with that yes, yes, y'all Ayo, the Burnout Brothers, we the truth I spit that sh** to make me run out the booth I got to say peace to my uncle Snoop We smoke chronic leaves into a poof And everybody knows we some lyrical fools When they guess the metaphors they be like, ooh Me and Canibus can go for days And linger in the mind like displaced rage We make that hardcore tailor made That make n***as put your face on the front page You motherf**ers, you can't compete You know you don't wanna go man for man, power on the streets It's Bis and Keith, yeah, bring it on Bring it on, bring it on, bring it on Ha, yeah, we set fire to the world And everybody got to resort to the beach, ha Yo, what you gonna do when we trap you on the sand? Ha It's the grandsons of the Son of Man Of the sickest sickest, sickest son of Sam Shout out to k**ah Priest And them hardcore n***as that run the streets Yo shout out to my man Mental, shout out to bis