Orinoco - Master Of The Rhymes lyrics

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Orinoco - Master Of The Rhymes lyrics

Chorus I Will Never Soften Up I Will Never Give Up To Many I'm Hated I Turn Blood To Wine Like I'm Divine Pour It Into Bottles An Army Of Apostles To Preach My Gospels To Pa** The Time I Became A Master Of The Rhyme Verse 1 Yo I'm the Irish Jesus armed with great white jaws With bars so perfect other rappers can't compete with my flaws Some say I have a weird personality, the type to burst into an insanity The beast with rage, that won't seize to amaze I'll just leave you in a haze, makin you sh** yourself while you breathe on my blade I'm sicker than a hospital patient diseased with aids An undead emcee that'll feast on your brains I swarm your rhymes like africanised honey bee hives My poetry flows like alcohol remedying your lives I roll like gypsies in a caravan, filled with bombs like I'm the taliban Travelling through afghanistan, looking for the border to pakistan I arrive at your house to pelt it with bottles of ciders, kopparbergs, magners, guiness and harp You know how I do i rhyme from the heart (Chorus) Verse 2 Yo I'm on conservation watch an endangered emcee with a flow so rare A constant irritation like the guy from go compare Not an ugly guy but I'll k** you with a cold stare My words carry more weight than the biteforce of a polar bear I'll throw you off your seat and beat you with a foldin chair And kick your a** from here to the artic and leave you over there My mouth spits heat and my a** fires solar flares My raps won't stop till diamonds break and my message is well deployed And I collapse the earth shake the foundations of the underworld till hell's destroyed I arrive at a rap congregation with beer and lager When I start to spit people begin clearin the cypher By the end of the verse they are fearin McIvor Because I attack outta nowhere with power and stealth like a Siberian Tiger (Chorus) Outro Verse I break bodies like bread While you pray to be dead Resurrection of a new dawn When I'm gone You will remember the song Remember you're inferior To the creator With a crown of thorns I'll leave your scalp torn To pa** the time I became a master of the rhyme