This is a demo of the epic sequel to my Recordion series
I recorded it this morning
its my Mood Muzik shit
this one is produced by John Qwest
http://hulkshare.com/9n78gkcc948z
Sharoyce jackin 4 beats
And coverin the classics
The blow so butter
That they cover it in plastic
My substance make em cosign
The government like adlibs
My vintage spits akin to half havoc
In his prime
I’m a Jekyll and a half bastard
Mastering the lines
Painting every millisecond
Snapshot to the blind
A couple screws dancing on the floor
Have I lost my mind-
Am I fine wine or something pure
Preserve her in her innocent virgin
I fuck the corpse
To revitalize the five mics
Pumpin from the source
My high horse is now a Porsche
Its sleepy hollow headed
So that I can see the sunset
Snares keep the drums wet
Drop on the beat
Tell the listeners I aint done yet
Stupid headbanger
To my whip
This is trunk sex
Cop Sirens make me see
My whole life flashin
In HD
Heaven fields of all white Jasmins
Subjects that I choose
To write are hell when I speak em
To the mole people this braille
For the e drum
God the Recordi’s
Like the old tax refund
You claim 40 babies
You’d be livin gravy./
Studio I bought from
Unemployment just to do it
Now I’m pennin scripts
of misconstrued mood music/
I’m a slow thinking genius
Mothafucka- who stupid?
Dude’s silly
I’d kill you if I tried to be witty
I want the finest ink
To etch it out on my skin
like the bible
Stature of graffiti on the ifle
If I ever try suicide
he’s beyond a rifle-
Take my sins away
Thoughts of the new
Earnest Hemmingway
I sing to these Joes- no Emanny
Who understand me-
I’m kickin these flows- its foldin panties
Nigga, easy
You carbon copy Wayne’s- a lil Weezy
When you speakin it-
So I spit the game a lil freebie
It’s the mothafuckin boy
Green soldiers- loaded toys
Even in the summer
He just leave the coldest void
Within a nigga heart
Throwin up cold in winter farts
Come and see me on the best day
Sweeper gets yo chest caved
Nigga poppin shit
The Ruger screamin at the next wave
Public E to people
With best Flav!
L!ve
Ring these veterans out-they need to dry
I’m the Sol Badguy
I let my pistol heat the sky
Royce know the flow is a blessing
They prey for the rain
I whet they appetite w/ rhetorical questions
Emaculate conception from
The tongue
I aint snowballin-
But they savorin the sample of
The young
I’m a gatlin on the run
Arm leg leg
hollow tip
I second nature spit
w/ breathin oxygen
The booth is therupuetic to my soul
I try to give a nigga every bar I own
every time I’m on./
I’m on- etched on the block
Cornerstone
You cant see me when I’m focused on the guap
Word is bond/
I’m a fuckin chiba chemney-
Herb is drawn for the verbal onslaught
Impregnable
Once the fuckin bomb drop-
A different type of artist
Got my arms locked
Meant for seekin out the target
Make it five alarm hot
I’m so stand up with it
I’m givin yall the realer
Strong as joe
No content coffee filters
I’m sickening as withering health
Niggas callin me the black plague
I sixteen a nigga to death
Shit my presence makesa bitch scream
Ignorant breathe
They don’t understand life after death
I’m a Raven
With the grim reaper’s touch
I be murderin prenatal
And I’m killin that ass
Soin further up the anal
Niggas know they future cuz its
Laid out on the table
I can make yo label
Play the hand that rocks the cradle
I know that yo entourage
Is tapin w/ the cables-
Out informin
Tryna get the truth from sojourner
Niggas morbid
I swear 4 god
The rap game borin
I don’t bested all the god’s out the orbit
http://www.lilwaynehq.com/forums/tha-studio/17673-mykill-shut-up-2.html#post251261
http://www.lilwaynehq.com/forums/tha-studio/18029-dreezy-i-just-want-it-all.html
I recorded it this morning
its my Mood Muzik shit
this one is produced by John Qwest
http://hulkshare.com/9n78gkcc948z
Sharoyce jackin 4 beats
And coverin the classics
The blow so butter
That they cover it in plastic
My substance make em cosign
The government like adlibs
My vintage spits akin to half havoc
In his prime
I’m a Jekyll and a half bastard
Mastering the lines
Painting every millisecond
Snapshot to the blind
A couple screws dancing on the floor
Have I lost my mind-
Am I fine wine or something pure
Preserve her in her innocent virgin
I fuck the corpse
To revitalize the five mics
Pumpin from the source
My high horse is now a Porsche
Its sleepy hollow headed
So that I can see the sunset
Snares keep the drums wet
Drop on the beat
Tell the listeners I aint done yet
Stupid headbanger
To my whip
This is trunk sex
Cop Sirens make me see
My whole life flashin
In HD
Heaven fields of all white Jasmins
Subjects that I choose
To write are hell when I speak em
To the mole people this braille
For the e drum
God the Recordi’s
Like the old tax refund
You claim 40 babies
You’d be livin gravy./
Studio I bought from
Unemployment just to do it
Now I’m pennin scripts
of misconstrued mood music/
I’m a slow thinking genius
Mothafucka- who stupid?
Dude’s silly
I’d kill you if I tried to be witty
I want the finest ink
To etch it out on my skin
like the bible
Stature of graffiti on the ifle
If I ever try suicide
he’s beyond a rifle-
Take my sins away
Thoughts of the new
Earnest Hemmingway
I sing to these Joes- no Emanny
Who understand me-
I’m kickin these flows- its foldin panties
Nigga, easy
You carbon copy Wayne’s- a lil Weezy
When you speakin it-
So I spit the game a lil freebie
It’s the mothafuckin boy
Green soldiers- loaded toys
Even in the summer
He just leave the coldest void
Within a nigga heart
Throwin up cold in winter farts
Come and see me on the best day
Sweeper gets yo chest caved
Nigga poppin shit
The Ruger screamin at the next wave
Public E to people
With best Flav!
L!ve
Ring these veterans out-they need to dry
I’m the Sol Badguy
I let my pistol heat the sky
Royce know the flow is a blessing
They prey for the rain
I whet they appetite w/ rhetorical questions
Emaculate conception from
The tongue
I aint snowballin-
But they savorin the sample of
The young
I’m a gatlin on the run
Arm leg leg
hollow tip
I second nature spit
w/ breathin oxygen
The booth is therupuetic to my soul
I try to give a nigga every bar I own
every time I’m on./
I’m on- etched on the block
Cornerstone
You cant see me when I’m focused on the guap
Word is bond/
I’m a fuckin chiba chemney-
Herb is drawn for the verbal onslaught
Impregnable
Once the fuckin bomb drop-
A different type of artist
Got my arms locked
Meant for seekin out the target
Make it five alarm hot
I’m so stand up with it
I’m givin yall the realer
Strong as joe
No content coffee filters
I’m sickening as withering health
Niggas callin me the black plague
I sixteen a nigga to death
Shit my presence makesa bitch scream
Ignorant breathe
They don’t understand life after death
I’m a Raven
With the grim reaper’s touch
I be murderin prenatal
And I’m killin that ass
Soin further up the anal
Niggas know they future cuz its
Laid out on the table
I can make yo label
Play the hand that rocks the cradle
I know that yo entourage
Is tapin w/ the cables-
Out informin
Tryna get the truth from sojourner
Niggas morbid
I swear 4 god
The rap game borin
I don’t bested all the god’s out the orbit
http://www.lilwaynehq.com/forums/tha-studio/17673-mykill-shut-up-2.html#post251261
http://www.lilwaynehq.com/forums/tha-studio/18029-dreezy-i-just-want-it-all.html
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