Freestyle '98

"FREESTYLE '98"
P-MAN, MAGELLAN

Magellan:
Spittin tones with these gnomes, bullets to the domes with a pocket full of bones. Pay the toll, if not fold, roll with gold in my hand, 'cause I'm bold.
P-Man:
Sold, sold, sold, said the dealer when I showed him my bankroll.
Magellan:
My bank's tight, clockin', strapped with the moneybag. Run up on these diamonds,
you're liable to get tagged.
P-Man:
Or get dragged in a gutter, cause I'm known for causin shudders, no soul, no mind, no
heart, no fear of the consequences that would make me hesitate on a brother.
Magellan:
Never pause, got no flaws, money is my cause, better make way or death'll open up his jaws.
P-Man:
I got your money, I got your chicks, don't load your clips, or I'll bust your lips
Magellan:
When I slip, you to your grave, down to your mausoleum, screamin' for freedom, but know that justice can't see me.
P-Man:
You can't beat me. Don't decieve me! I penetrate those wicked thoughts. I can see
into your mind and tell if you would dare to cross.
Magellan:
All hope is lost when you come and get accosted, at all costs while this boss gets you
tossed with this lyric pentecost.
P-Man:
A holocaust of rhymes, mad syllabic chimes, music to your ears and words for your heart and your mind, divinely timed to this strict metric time.
Magellan:
To the spine, bustin' ten vertebrae, and all motion cease, neurons deactivated before you can scream.
P-Man:
The silence of death, how's it feel breathin your last breath? You can't yell, you can't cry, no tears fall from your eyes. What's left to do? What, you can't even move? Well that's too bad son, I guess you just die.
Magellan:
Empty screams, hollow cries--futile panic's in your eyes, yet your last gasps don't make me loosen up my binds.
P-Man:
Feel the blood start to drain, feel your brain suffer pain. Your hate asphyxiates you, suicide from the inside.
Magellan:
I never pack a gun, always got a scythe or knife, I got a new cache of blades, all for cuttin' up your life.
P-Man:
I be scheming like a demon, just put that axe to the grindstone, my cleaver's a deceiver but it be takin your life soon.
Magellan:
By soon, I mean right now, and yo, not at high noon, impending doom is rushin in, knock knock knockin' at the door, snatchin' lives and clockin' money, yo, I'm never goin' poor.
P-Man:
I'm just itchin for that money, I take credit, but not checks. Never found after a killin cause no clues leaves em perplexed.
Magellan:
When I wreck your neck, I'm a slim pilgrim out on a killin' whim, feel the wind and you sense that outlooks are grim. Well, you're right, but not for spite, rather delight, just so you know, no hard feelings this night.
P-Man:
You think I kill because I got not a care? You think I kill at will because I think life's unfair? I'd rather kill for thrill than kill for cause or a dare. I kill you for the feeling--the pulse, the taste of death in the air.
Magellan:
A taste of death? That's what I got brewin' in a cauldron, book of spells from Hell, chants and dirges, oh well. Laments fill the air, 'cause murder's what sells.
P-Man:
Cause I fell, I dropped from the sky with the blaze of a burning comet. My wings were burnt to cinders by the flames of my hellish torment. My place was in heaven, steady dwelling, 'mong those trues that had left earth before then. But I fell from the clouds, my robes turned to shrouds, cause I tainted the sky with my dark sins.
Magellan:
Descending to the seas my lyric typhoons swirlin', sendin' out verbal sermons, my storms are fierce and skin piercin', leavin' fools in the dirt without an epidermis.