MadChild - Bottle Rocket lyrics

[Evidence] Yo the rhyme excursions touch minds like brain surgeons Feel the lyric teargas - even on clean versions No profanit goddamnit hard like granite to the utmost I'm bu*ter on rye - always high but play the low post I stretch to go the distance yo my lungs are mad elastic I'm dope on plastic like Flex I always keep it cla**ic Expressions in the facial I'm on Rachel from caribbean rhythms I hit 'em with a battered flow padded with circles added twice I'm nice on ice the line slice your dome And separate rhymes from poems My life.... Ain't tryin to see no grammy or oscar Best believe these styles will rub off like pastas On people yo check Dilated Evidence The influential rock rhymes in sequential format You'll see the doormat if you acting disaccordingly Something to the effect of Fatboys in Disorderlies [Mad Child] I'll take you from He-Man to She-Ra Battle Cat to Cringer Medieval Messenger, west coast avenger Take it to the street battle me? That's a f**ing sin Go one round with Mad Child you'll be s**ing wind Snapping handcuffs just for de-concentration Then I broke out the bus - a mental hospital patient On a weekend pa** but I still come sick Psychopathic you're dealing with a deranged lunatic Soon to kick your teeth in, and then go berserk Even Van Gogh looked at me and said you're one piece of work So I said lend me an ear, cause I'm the state of the art First I'll feast on your brain, then rip your body apart There's a part of your heart stuck in between my fangs Wrap a rope around your neck, and you still couldn't hang Cause you're way off track, you need realignment Murdering masterpieces in solitary confinement [Everlast] I'll keep your backside open like the english channel I rock the sure shot, I keep it hot like flannel I'll survey your panel with my foot up in your an*l You think it can't happen? Kid, cause I'm rappin'? Ain't no gun clappin' cut the jaw jackin' Let the joints get shot and see where it's not Then kick off your shoes jump off my jock And check the new style Whitey Ford's prone to rock Once upon a time, not long ago Before Hip Hop was made for the radio An MC show had to co-rock the ma**es Used to wear a kangol with the clear gazelle gla**es So bang bang boogie up jump the party Someone clapped off and scattered everybody Drunk off bacardi, high off the trauma It's d**h from above the livest dive bomber In the squadron I break formation I get New York love like my name's Ken Son ??At tea?? they rock bells till they break the dawn Steady puffin owl's and fight hell like spawn My moves are animated my crew's reinstated While you cats suspension's up in my dimensions We can ease tensions or we can get rowdy So I'mma keep it on the love and do my duty/doody like howdy [Divine Styler] Direction short term plan regionalize rhyme boards With the hordes - I'm satan dynasty k**er Refill the chords with the sling on down Venom spit regurgitate def scripts I sound Cylinder never python, prevail Mad Child Physical justic can't rush this for now Move fake of the game time set backs don't sweat that God don't test that - too much infinite to get at Space to fills all the members got the illa drills And if you with the rhyme sk** Bust the revealings of my feelings of these dealings Will the represent shall I build three phases of d**h The illusion is to sweat that you reflect When you feel the veil Divine Styles circumnavigate nine circles of hell You keep on you don't stop cause a n***a never stay stale WudaWudaWudaWudaWudaWudaWhat I'm saying is is that... You ain't you ain't ready for that sh** (echoes)