L’Orange, Mr. Lif, Akrobatik - The Scribe lyrics
[L’Orange, Mr. Lif, Akrobatik - The Scribe lyrics]
As two worlds collide we relied on the God
Blessed and bonafide so in steps described
Yeah, I was awakened from suspended animation
Cause, I heard the fans were waiting
For these men to abandon Satan
And dump 'em with the sanitation
Diagnosed rap like it was a medication
Provided with bacitracin and it's infected
By the connected who all think it's selective
Crawl before their styles were perfected
I inject it with truth serum
The youth hear 'em
The amateurs in the booth hear 'em
Sonic boomed voice that'll make walls crumble
The weak hearted fall, stomp
Now they all humble
In these reduced state, crews wait
They use hate
Increase the blue rate 'till the ground move
Quake catch a fracture
I’m calling out my last rap rapture
The slaves who waved the whips
Right back at master scribe, behold
As two worlds collide we relied on the God
Blessed and bonafide so in steps described
Behold when the tales are told
Stories are woved thoughts are rogue and the
Words became closed
Witness as I spit this clash of apparel
If the gap between the rich and
The poor was more narrow
I'd come to your house, stomp out your couch
Deliver the left jab, duck, the roundhouse
Poof, disappear, the youth can't handle
The muse with the unusual
Views from such angles
No handles if I'm riding a bike
Plus it's instant antique if
I'm signing a mic
A family heirloom that looms
And keeps precious insane how the value was
Gained from three letters l-IF in high def
Wild dreaded cowboys like Pras and Wyclef
How many mics have I
Resurrected with my breath?
It's commonplace for me to
Be connecting with rights, lefts
And mic checks
Blessed and bonafide so in steps described
Yeah, I was awakened from suspended animation
Cause, I heard the fans were waiting
For these men to abandon Satan
And dump 'em with the sanitation
Diagnosed rap like it was a medication
Provided with bacitracin and it's infected
By the connected who all think it's selective
Crawl before their styles were perfected
I inject it with truth serum
The youth hear 'em
The amateurs in the booth hear 'em
Sonic boomed voice that'll make walls crumble
The weak hearted fall, stomp
Now they all humble
In these reduced state, crews wait
They use hate
Increase the blue rate 'till the ground move
Quake catch a fracture
I’m calling out my last rap rapture
The slaves who waved the whips
Right back at master scribe, behold
As two worlds collide we relied on the God
Blessed and bonafide so in steps described
Behold when the tales are told
Stories are woved thoughts are rogue and the
Words became closed
Witness as I spit this clash of apparel
If the gap between the rich and
The poor was more narrow
I'd come to your house, stomp out your couch
Deliver the left jab, duck, the roundhouse
Poof, disappear, the youth can't handle
The muse with the unusual
Views from such angles
No handles if I'm riding a bike
Plus it's instant antique if
I'm signing a mic
A family heirloom that looms
And keeps precious insane how the value was
Gained from three letters l-IF in high def
Wild dreaded cowboys like Pras and Wyclef
How many mics have I
Resurrected with my breath?
It's commonplace for me to
Be connecting with rights, lefts
And mic checks