C-Rayz Walz, Gauge the Mental Murderah, Breez Evahflowin’, and Loer Velocity Freestyle (A Long Rhyme Coming: The 1999 to 2002 Sessions Pt. 1) lyrics

by

Apathy


[Verse 1: C-Rayz Walz]
Yo, I’ma kill a/I’m a Killah Priest just to get a View from Masada
No worries, my religion is hakuna matata
Walking the steps and the breath of Allah, the father
I don’t spit no more for wars—it’s just raw lava
Guaranteed to f*ck your head up like a blind barber
To go nuts like George Washington Carver. Dropping bombs
Like football games in Pearl Harbor
Red, black, and green queens, Midnight Marauder
In a good mood with bad karma, I’ll bring justice
Live and rise for your honor, [?]
Go and put holes in battle armor, so you
Ain’t seeing me like pink and blue ganja
My pen’s the gauge, leaving ink shells on page
Turning clubs to paper to rip the stage
Put your spine on my knapsack, make a backpack
With the apocalypse and that’s the last track
Ruggedly run laps like NASCAR tanks
While wack rappers look stupid like Jar Jar Binks
And couldn’t splash flows if they dashed off planks
“Thanks, baby. What’d you say say?” Double up ‘til my payday
My old flow killed senseis in the dojo
So don’t point at me unless you’re the [?] logo
Murdering bloodsuckers and drop dimes
Using 9s to bust at cops and kill times
Going wild in studio sessions, dumbing out
For nosy toilet bowls who wonder when my sh*t’s coming out
[Verse 2: Gauge the Mental Murderah]
Yo, give the mic here. Gauge is a rare breed with speed
To follow my lead, you’ll need the stamina of Apollo Creed
In Rocky III. The monotony got me on E. Already
Know how much you rushing. Truly, can you emcee?
David be the name, speaks for itself and talks a lot
Got no gun but still the one that’s always calling the shot
Spot you three, no point game. My joint’s pain will rape
Rejuvenate once I deflate and set the industry straight
Who you fighting? Music is to enlighten. Never clash with this titan
Open your eyes and put sight in—just on the strength of my writing
Get the picture? Or should I blow it out the frame?
Once insane, but the pain was like a stain if you breakdance in the rain
Wouldn’t leave while you bleed by your chief plaques
Heed facts as annoying to the fake like mic feedbacks
Don’t need tracks—do it acapella or the hymns
Word to my Timbs, this year, I’m gonna shine like magnums
Be prepared. Come on

[Interlude 1: Breez Evahflowin’]
Yeah. Be prepared. Word. Eddie Ill & D.L. Be prepared. Yo

[Verse 3: Breez Evahflowin’]
I’m the head of a shovel, yet I think
Like the Hubble Scope. Double-oh-so-dope
I’m Jaws, biting the oars off your rowboat. Dodo
Now all your shipments under quota with your bling like the photo
You beat bum. I’ll beat son like Roger
Thomas mama. I’ll bring the Stronghold drama
Oh, I’ma knock—you’re scrimped on. You pimped on
The wrong ave. Your hoes have been instructed
To report to reproductive duty. n*ggas make
No sense like a busted cutie. Bust a doody
I’ma do to this mic. True to this like you done seen it
I’m scenic like the black p*nis, attract Venus
Never act p*nis. Wrapped the ring like a Danish
Share the space of breath with the greatest entertainers
Mama nameless of who or what your game is. My shameless
Slang’ll bang aimless, randomly leave fools
Brainless. You can’t miss the Flow
I’m out for everything ‘til I can’t gets no more
Next to yours, my sh*t’s triple-extra-large
You repping in my set, I’m getting charged
[Verse 4: Loer Velocity]
Loe, I’ll bring it back like reoccurring realizations
Have you facing the face that make your attempts reiterations
In pantomime as you stand atop closed caption
Distort action, just cancel. I’m contraband with mine
I’m a fan of fine rhyme, opposition-impairing
Your diction from this main mission I’ll be ripping
Inflicting [?] to your hearing
Y’all bums can’t be right—more like off-to-the-left veering
I’m too domineering for you peeking weaks staring
You can’t help but succ*mb to my blitzkrieg engineering
Only interfering in your risky, shifty dispatch
L’ll rock forever—with that, give back. So
Where you think you going? All these creatures in your path
Get your child participating too without the watercolor
I’ll be sure to smother fingerpainting styles with collage
A mirage dissipating, statements autographed
More than half, infinite mass gets uplifted when I raise rafters
Falsely accuse none for the effects after
Kung fu responsibility for the shutdown of laughter
Fold you in the heat of the action like unreliable clappers
What?
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