Beast Ballad - Vakill ( Instrumental )

Happy

Beast Ballad - Vakill

[ INTRO: JUICE ]
Ey
I swear there's nobody in the industry fuckin with Chicago rap niggas
Believe me
I give it to you niggas if you want it
This for you, Va
What up, P

[ VERSE 1: JUICE ]
I'm the grimiest nigga
With the weapon I'm smackin ya
A Legend like Acura
Plus I'm ryhmin with vigor
With a better work ethic they say I mighta been Jigga
There's no regrets, the flow is wet, my nigga, cry me a river
Exceptional vernacular, weapons spectacular
And I'm never satisfied, somebody grab me a Snicker
Named J-U-ICE like the diamonds that glitter
When rhymin in a blizzard, seein me's like tryina get a lining with scissors
Plus I'm throwin back a fifth of that Dom, my nigga, it's fryin my liver
Supplyin the piff and ( ? ) infinite
I don't even gotta try to get ignorant
Like Theo and Vanessa dad I can deliver it
Plus I do it just to brag, I am a intricate rhymin wizard
Intravenous dope up in every rhyme and I'm spittin it
It's like I'm puttin coke in every line and you sniffin it
Plus I carry a nine, Terry Shine, I'm rippin it

[ VERSE 2: Rhymefest ]
I am not here to spit metaphors or create dances
I am a can of whoop-ass ready to open
Willin and hopin you would provoke him
Try to insult me, I will punch you in yo face until my fists start smokin
Till my hands start soakin in the blood from the wounds that was open
From the shit you was talkin out of motion
I'm emotionless, I beat you to a Pulp for yo Fictional
Some old John Travolta shit, hocus pocus, bitch
It's the magic show, spooks disappear down the rabbit hole
LJ guerilla warfare, my shit's tactical
I hold grudges, ( ? ), do not touch it
Fuck with, walk away from me, man, say "Fuck it"
You don't want it, get stomped by the Brown Hornets
Vakill, Crooked I and J, we all on it
Keep your friends close, your enemies closer
Fuck that, kill your enemies, yo, this ain't Oprah
We gon' ride

[ VERSE 3: Nino Bless ]
Look I don't give a fuck, my motto is live it up
Keep your glass half full, see mines, I fill up
You want war, please give it up, the gig is up
I'm sick enough to penetrate ( ? )
Yes it's Brooklyn's crooked minister
Spit conscious shit, then push some kush when I finish up
I administer the sickest of scripts since
That Indian that wrote the script to the Sixth Sense
You lames spittin should quit and go back to 'caine, bitches
Is you insane, you must ( ? ) simpin
Got your blood on my blade drippin, I ain't kiddin
I pierce your chest like a ( ? ), you lay stiffen
Dog, I stay trippin, you know I was playin, pimpin
I end his life cause this wasn't in G and Kane's vision
Yeah I'm game uptown for that same mission
Aim-clickin, bang-spittin, flame sick as Twain's diction

[ VERSE 4: Crooked I ]
Yeah, even though I'm holdin hot burners
This killer is colder than hyperthermia
A single round spin'll sit you down like a hernia
Me and Rihanna, we got a seperate definition for 'disturbia'
I'm mentaly disturbed, nigga, I murder ya
That prrrat put a peephole in your flesh
A keyhole in your chest
Then I open up your torso
Just like a door, so
Death can walk in
Negro, I'm depressed, please know I'm a mess
Send you right upstairs
Gun treat you like them Billie Jean sidewalks, the way they light up squares
Yeah, kill kickdrums, tie up snares
Wanna describe my flow in one word? Try 'unfair'
Tireless nights I spit fire into wireless mics
Till I expired its life, until my life expired I'm fly as a kite
And I'm firin iron that'll turn any Iron Mike into Brian McKnight
Mmmwwaaa, good night

[ VERSE 5: Vakill ]
I'm hate's Cupid on a poison-tipped arrow assignment
Strapped to the ( ? )
My barrel alignments never minded enough exposin bone-marrow confinement
Non-rhymers' subsconcious is vicious
Only pussy gettin past these bars is conjugal visits
Ganja exquisit, when inhaled conjure a vision
Explicit as point blank with a rocket launcher ( ? )
My physic's the Lord's best kept secret, swept under His rug
Cracked the earth with a thunderous tug
I work wonders with slugs, I'm a blunder with blood
It will spill until the angels come and plunge in the flood
( ? )
This that new Chi, necks frosty, bars is Windex-glossy
Next costly mistake I'm squeezin Tecs ( ? )
Any nigga that plans to ex-off me
Ain't got two snowballs chances on a anatomically correct Frosty
You ain't heard no bars that's inhuman and wild
Mushroomin a cloud till all you bitches consumed in a pile
God and Satan reunion is now
And if Obama gets shot there'll be more blood in crackers than fuckin communion allows
Can't shit breathin dishonour these verses
Only cracks you'll find in my arm is 2 for 5's if the fuckin economy worsens

(Armor of God)