Tha FreakStylaz Post Album | Primal~the Rap Achilles~

T HA F REAKSTYLAZ P OST A LBUM

| Primal~the Rap Achilles~ |

| 7. Battle For Death (Acapella) |

emceein is babies for Ali, the shit comes out bare butt/

it's off the dome like hats in buildins or a damn haircutt/

i'm fair butt, in life rappin is a thing of evil men/

cuz by any means i'm tryin to kill your dreams and not see you again/

believe i will win, exposin your every weakness plus your bleakness/

and release the eliteness that will complete your defeat and your retreat men/

when i secrete this verbal message wit a stroke like smith and wesson/

i'm hittin ears of onlookers while your heart slips into regression/

better confessions of inferiority then engagin on sharif/

my punchlines aint a fist, its kinda a 12 guage upon your teeth/

in rage i'm gonna eat every cell in your brain, no attractive pollutions/

and remove every bump off your face like proactive solution/

a fact i'm amusion, but only to the audience enjoyin scripts/

my opponent's esteem becomes smaller than 2 inch skinny broiled dick/

you'll hear the roarin quick, no time to discard feather spitters/

i'm like god i know the forecast of his ass fast before the weather getters/

dare to hit us, and that's my pen, pad, or face wit your breath/

and you'll be runnin for suicide, the only nigga chasin your death/

retrace on your steps and evaluate all angles of decisions/

see my words come out fast, it's hard detanglin your vision/

you think the divine is on your side, then i'll strangle your religion/

the ranges from which i'll hit em can't be counted in time/

dude i think your tracks are horses the way Primal mountin your rhymes/

slouchin no times, on my dean's list like the dean's script/

cuz i sign ever nigga eligble that hope to report to the dean's list/

mean i'm the dean i'm holdin all the keys to the gate, keys to your fate/

so you're like a virgin waitin for sex at night, only in your dreams you relate/

no debate that i'm causin your cerebral and body functions to digress/

really kid, i'm like fuck your shots ahk, like i'm pumpin your nine tech/

you've been hit front to back dog, like a pump thru your spine, chest/

For The Art of War: Format For Success