Wild Child - Dreams lyrics

[Intro: Blitzkrieg] Yeah, yeah. Yeah. Hydra exclusive. Yo. Ayyo, this one right here is for all you lullaby-dreaming-a** cats. Called Having Your Dreams Ripped Apart, sitting in your bed, thinking ‘bout you getting deals, you getting money and all that bullsh**. ‘Cause y'all ain't got no sk**s. Blitz (Stop fantasizing), The Plague [Verse 1: Blitzkrieg] Now if you're wondering, my intentions are genuine We ‘bout to take it to the origins—the Golden Age is back again Putting up a bulletin. Nah, f** that. Put a bullet in When I pull back and shoot it, your whole squad'll be executed We're new to the field if ask your average citizens In the trenches we've been living in, we're the regiments of veterans Living on sparse rationings, broken fountain pens, simplistic beat blends No paper, so we wrote our words on napkins Now what I'm peddling better than vitamins and medicine Yet much more deadly like nitroglycerin mixed with h**ne In your bloodstream, it starts settling You've got time for one scream before your senses start deading and You could dream of being dope if we didn't start meddling Now your family and friends are saying, “Amen,” in front of the reverend In the end, I recommend Vaseline if you're a virgin We're Having Your Dreams Ripped Apart—check the wording Bursting your concentration from atop a cloud of cumulus Prepare for condensation—we're spitting acid rain on numerous Amateurs, giving more than puny, punitive damages Murder your music and managers. We're verbally vandalous Scandalous k**ing spree you shouldn't wish on your worst enemy Syllable symmetry is generating energy Again, it'd be Blitz. My chemistry fits The style and profile of emcees that k** this gimmicky sh** I'm clinically sick, beast of burden, having my mind hurting Just to have you comprehend Hydra's always a godsend Why in Blitzkrieg's name, then, you think it's OK to spit horrendous? Lyrics that's offerings that offend us? Our rap is relentless. You've got no chance to win We'll be Having Your Dreams Ripped Apart—check the lettering [Hook: Samples] “You wish that you could get with this” - Sample from [?] “Who want to battle?” - Sample from [?] “You wish that you could get with this” - Sample from [?] “Hydra” - Sample from [?] “Having Your Dreams Ripped Apart—check the lettering” - Sample from Blitzkrieg on The Plague ft. Hydra's “Dreams” [Verse 2: Wild Child] Ha! Verbally, you've heard of me Thoroughly hurdling hyper hyperbole Blood-curdling with magnificent metaphors That'd be raising all my rebels up and revel (Yes-a, yes!) You remember me? I'm one of the remedies To get rid of these emcees instead of these phonies Faking felonies on amphetamines I'll be the means to end all willing schemes Until it's clean ‘cause, still, it means a hill of beans If they're k**ing kings and queens with silly themes Of Machiavelli dreams, flexing a Lex or Rolex In Tommy Hilly jeans ‘cause my ten-dollar seams Stitched by the same twelve-year olds out in the Philippines (Whaa!) Where your sk**s at? (Ha!) You need to build that Hydrophobia coming over ya—can you feel that? Chills back in your spine, you all panic When I rhyme, the Earth aligns with all planets Solar eclipse when I equips the organics Lyrically fluid, the D's volcanic Prophesized in ancient oxidized ceramics Something wicked this way comes—I'm awesome Wild Child (Ha!) about to represent where you're from The Third Rock. My words drop like storms of anvils I'll swarm your set like Kilimanjaro man thrills I warn and threat. Now with hand sk**s ‘cause man k**s But my speed of thought got you caught at a standstill Toe-to-toe, man, you slow, man. You know the program It's like Having Your Dreams Ripped Apart—check the slogan [Hook: Samples] “You wish that you could get with this” - Sample from [?] “Who want to battle? Who want to battle?” - Sample from [?] “Change the order. There's no way that we can rock after them” - Sample from Black Thought on The Roots' "100% Dundee" “Having Your Dreams Ripped Apart—check the lettering” - Sample from Blitzkrieg on The Plague ft. Hydra's “Dreams” [Verse 3: GMS] Yo, yo, I see crowds gathering, asking why I'm strangling Traveling barefoot on gravel while the flow is unraveling It's no more baffling than theories of the Pythagorean Triangle. I strangle to keep wack emcees from rattling Keep hip hop from vanishing, eliminate the weak by battling Launch my lyrical javelin straight through your abdomen My verbal acumen sonically stabbing men when I have a pen When I go off the top, what I often drop will leave ‘em staggering I'm saddling similes and metaphors and grappling With punchlines and ba** kicks, my uppercut smash a gentleman I'm standing in my own cypher, hard to grasp like Mandarin Abandoning hooligans carrying on shenanigans I'm banishing foes faster than these flows I'm mastering Plastering haymakers on gay fakers sweeter than saccharine I'll have to win. Emcees are so soft, it's saddening So clean, their lyrics lather when they get inside a bath with them Battle? I'll play you like a mandolin. I'm quick to smack your friend And if he tries to run, you'd best believe I'm coming after him Lyrically jacking him, attacking him, pull out the gat at him Verbally blasting him—and if I miss, I'll blast again You'll feel the wrath of ten. Send all your men so we can laugh at them Half of them won't be going home after the laughter ends Hopes I'm shattering of escaping my verbal labyrinth Your nervous chattering only leads to further damaging I'm challenging any emcee who thinks he's averaging More lines than Canibus and Cappachino battling (What?) A savage when I ravage friends. Imagine what I do to enemies On bended knees, begging, “Please.” I start subtracting limbs My pockets fatten and you're looking rather slim. My soul is cast in sin Having Your Dream Ripped Apart—check the acronym All the lines I have are gems. Don't believe? Go ask your friends When they're answering, I'll bet their teeth are chattering So quit your ha**ling. Mad because your girls is straddling With a wooden spoon in her mouth so she could take it in the a** again My nuts are dangling all on her chin. I'll begin banging ‘em Hanging ‘em like good friends or, like emcees, I'll be strangling Your only chance to win is rummaging through the crates To pay our f**ing publishing before you start sampling f**ing with G-Man again, you'll get slammed with synonyms and antonyms Millions of thousand-dollar words I'll be cramming down your throat Mic cord tangling. New Jacks and veterans Claiming that they're better than Hydra, but they be slandering Knowing they need editing, can't test the brethren We're Having Your Dreams Ripped Apart, lyrically arrogant Style is malevolent, irreverent, never irrelevant Slaughter benevolent reverends. The Plague Campus in the streets. Whether you Arian or Rastafarian Lyrical abstinence the only thing you should be practicing I'll be back again with Pumpkinhead, PackFM Substantial, [?], Bad Seed, Kameel-Yen Use some intelligence when pondering head-severing We're Having Your Dreams Ripped Apart—check the lettering