Tha FreakStylaz Post Album | Primal~the Rap Achilles~

T HA F REAKSTYLAZ P OST A LBUM

| Primal~the Rap Achilles~ |

| 8. Gun Parts feat. LyricalTerrorist |

Primal

fifty caliber pistol whistles at high heat rate/

ammunition and bolts in place, from recoil i keep safe/

don't feet race, the barrel spits the bullets out automatic/

any time i blow systematic, when i pull back, feel autocratic/

p problematic, when the magazine move towards the chamber/

enemies are, movin towards some danger/

in anger, the hammer cocks back and falls back in place/

like barber clippers, on contact, your brain falls pass your face/

no escape, one finger controls the tech, power of death/

the shotgun buck shot must sneeze, the way it showers your chest/

in an hour? a sec. the time it takes deconstruct your frame/

infrared and eye scopes, night vision, helps Ali conduct the aim/

you should duck it's plain if LT ever engage/

cuz LT known to creep pass and spring up wit up wit a Gauge/

T buck rearragne your vocal chords, all your tissues every/

piece of your body, newspapers, name left in obituaries/

best get a missionary, nun-priest, to pray for your life/

and understand that these gunners will, lay wit your wife/

we raid thru wit pipes, and let bullets fly, those metal arrows/

leave you niggas in tombs like any settled pharoahs/

LyricalTerrorist

Even though the ported barrel's exiting portions narrow/

The bullet predicts your ending like a fortune teller/

Theres no magical switches that abort to help ya/

So just hope that i keep the safety on/

Man your be more nervous then a freshman date on prom/

We control your fate with arms/

P's shooting and im making bombs that'll disintergrate your lungs/

We dont hesitate or pause, plus we ride in concealing clothing/

Real and focused so you dont know where we conceal the holsters/

We appear like vultures...

Then leave u cold as stone or shakespearian sculptures/

Man you see how we relate to the parts of a gun/

From the carnage thats done, its ovbious sicles arent as sharp as my tounge/

Your be on milk cartons as once...

"Dude last seen parked at a stump by the conerside market on Front"

Man spark me a blunt...we blazing from East Coast to west/

And leaving under ya throat and neck...

Rearranged like Pam Andersons when the heat gropes ya chest/

Primal

we post at best, on your block, T gropin techs/

shots open necks, when we pop three folks and jet/

stop hope to rest, in a hospital wit soft jello and plastic tubes/

most times cats carcus dudes, when we flashin tools/

heat blastin thru your noggin, hittin spaghetti strings/

you'd think we won a championship, the way he thru air like confetti things/

it's a petty thing to beef wit LT Prime the freaks wit three nines/

wit guns, we give ya free grime like kids gettin dirty at free time/

you wanna see mine, i'll pull it out the holster and use it/

kill you and tell my dead folks..your ghost..yo abuse it/

we killin souls plus we smokin your music/

matter fact, we not shootin niggas, these are blood ruckus transfusions/

so choose it, the smart word when you speak to the G/

cuz you wont like cold steele when it reach a degree/

that's unsafe and burn flesh, bleach, streets and debris/

so it's better off on my side when we creepin to sweep/

holla back niggas

much love to LT

this is a classic!

get that shit poppin

LITERALLY

shouts to my freak niggas!

keep killin em

hard

we aint lauryn hill and the fugees!

LyricalTerrorist appears courtesy of FreakStylaz Musik/Productshunz