The Reavers - Bodybuilding (Main) lyrics

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The Reavers - Bodybuilding (Main) lyrics

The Reavers (ft. Keith Masters and billy woods) - “Bodybuilding” [Produced by Exacto] [Intro: Keith Masters and (billy woods)] Yeah. What? Yeah. What? We right here (Yeah). We in the woods (Woods). Yeah, yeah, bodybuilding, n***as. Where my creatine at? Where my Myoplex at? Where my Red Bull at? Pa** the vodka. Pa** the Henny. We ‘bout to do it, baby. Uh, uh [Verse 1: Keith Masters] My hand is the root penetrating through the Earth Put up peace signs in China, negotiating nuclear Warfare. A penniless pavilion war's fare For skepticals to peep the Armageddon in lawn chairs My arm is the biological missile My remorse is the '98 inspection crew The council went through. The truth did too When The Towers new, superpowers get their just due [Hook 1: Keith Masters] My mind is the vortex for raw s** To careful rubble rappers of contraceptive parent talks Lost in my mind like driving through foreign towns With a pocketful of bombshells, walking down the Nile My heart pumps Chicago tools, Southern blues All congested with the vapors like New York City avenues So with an electrical tick, I'll march To the beat of a Diff'rent Drummer like Arnold and Willis [Verse 2: Keith Masters] Visualize my eyes under Iraqi skies Wake up to exploding shrapnel with no time to improvise Good Morning America. Smells a lot like Vietnam All up in this sh** with our full-metal jackets on [Hook 2: Keith Masters] (x2) I can feel the Earth breathing like a burden on my chest Every day, more pressure ‘cause this world is a mess That's why people seek religion, bow at pews to confess Others slap hoes and stack dough to blow sess [Verse 3: Keith Masters] Well, well. "Race Matters," says Cornel West Reloading, mumble, still signifying, “Surely you jest” My mouth utters rhythms of that "Ol' Man River" Claim, “He must know something (Something). Don't say nothing (Nothing)” [Verse 4: billy woods] Come on, money. How that sound? Could boys handle Those pounds? n***a, I'll Randall Cunningham Your little town. Want more, for dough number one We bad, she gones. Play your position Laying these tones. If you listen, these crows Will sing you a tone—or maybe not. Don't dance no more In case you ain't know, in case y'all ain't smelled the dro He's the one with the Osama beard and the awkward flow Flow awful slow. "Eenie, Meenie Miney, Moe. Catch a n***a by his toe" I don't think so. We on the go, high-stepping Like Marcus Allen. Reavers repping for Monsta Island The Dark City back to Shaolin, smiling See me, 9-1-1 what they're dialing See me on the mic, you wiling. O.T Back-and-forth like a violin. Jacked a Porsche—now We styling. Show you how this done like Jackie Chan Coach calling punt on third down. God damn! Charles Barkley a fan. Bodybuilding? Nah, fam. Only thing I lift is grams [Verse 5: Keith Masters] Still paint the perfect portrait while the colors forfeit From Robeson to Robinson, splitting n***as off it. I'm Lifting my city off the ground, working biceps Lynch mobs creep through the night with a misconceived Concept of height. Is it wrong? Is it right? Just Tales from the hood, where k**er cops plant crack pipes f** the paperwork. I'ma lift ‘til it hurts And my chest goes berserk. f** the pain away like Dirk Saw my name in neon lights, written in cursive Keith Masters amphibious, living submersive like Aquaman, understand? A hundred and fifty Penny vans and caked-up frying pans. Keep my group Loot goods in Campbell Soup cans. All just To outthink the man, outlive the plan Bench-pressing emcees and clapping in the middle of The refs. And don't half-step in the circle of the wreck Glad I trimmed off the fat, put some muscle on my pec There's no emcee alive whose mind I can't dissect Mental check: let me recollect. Drifted off In the middle of a set. Middle of a set