Kuniva - Weaponized lyrics
[Kuniva - Weaponized lyrics]
Yeah, so while the earth
Still spinnin’ 'round
I be on my twisted metal shit
I'll kill a clown
You can see my fire rounds like
Cats jumpin’ through blazin' hoola hoops
My mind's a 12-sided pentagon Rubik's Cube
Now who them dudes, neither fears nothing?
The ave is still buzzin' at anyone
Who appears blussin'
You get yourself a pierce muffin
For assumin' everything is sweet
When you assume you make an
Ass outta you and me there's no truer G
Your girl pants half off and they
Ain’t no half-steppin’, she half-assin'
Narcoleptic pacin’ the floor
Ignorin' the beautiful allure
Of this Kraftmatic
I'ma stash-the-cash addict
Since DaddyO and Wise was
Talkin' jazz with Stetsasonic
I was steppin’ brolic as hell
My mic had weapons on it
Yo, check the knowledge
That money hittin' direct deposit's
Leavin' shells everywhere, we makin' omelets
Still standin' like the pyramid of Giza
I'm a livin' anormaly
Sick, spittin' laryngitis
Buildin' like the Mayans
Bill 'em, I'll supply 'em
Boilin' like Mark Aguirre in dark attire
Your girls' back covered in carpet fiber
Spark your lighters and put it
Up for a real one
Too fearsome, absolute brilliance
The truth serum in the booth smearin' blood
If your crew sneerin'
This text for everybody that it contacts
Group share 'em
Look, a lot of my dogs is pumpin'
Bass with they gun on waist
Get outta bullets
Spit out and land in the sunken place
Marauder, I just go harder
You wouldn't bust a grape
You rappers are roadkill stuck
To an old wheel gettin' splattered
Decorating a tourists' grille
Constructing bars, I'm the foreman, still
Sayin' grace before the meal, scored wheels
Shady may have kinda peeped my potential
But, now they know it's real
Invite your chick over
Feel her velour and chill
Dope since Axel Foley was
Winnin' game on Bogomil
Focus clappin' phonies
I give you dames the Holyfield
Pandemonium James Toney
I'm sicker than Chappelle drinkin'
Pure breast milk
Cambodian, get to talkin' that petroleum and
Get gassed up and done greasy
Coachin' shooters, Mike Dunleavy
Better than most these niggas so
You not gon' leave me
Off the list of the greats
Don't see my name, i might go Stevie
Blackout, this ain't entertainment
I'm not your TV
Bad connection, hit your FaceTime
You not gon' see me
This thing cocks so easy
This rhyme here was thought so easy
Runyon Ave, we pop so freely
Terracotta blue wanna be recognized
My brain relapse around rappers for exercise
I specialize in leaving
Each production petrified
This is what happens when
Real niggas are weaponized