Lyrics Black Milk – The Matrix
Text:
For every pair of lines I spit
I leave you paralyzed and bent so clear a path
If you not parallel to my paragraphs
Apparently if they say I’m better than you
Movin’ forward ahead of you
Like you ridin’ a bike
And you can’t move till’ the pedals do
Nobody teams compare
Bold niggas fallin’ so fast
They need to pull the strings on a parachute
So stop the comparisons and get buried up under American soil
We can start with the letter U, S
Food for thought, thought for fools
Where niggas will take a life for the jewels and a pair of shoes
The hood is out for dollar signs
We trade the heaven skies for a slice of the devil’s pie
Try to make it my downfall but see all I know is the tour
Audiences applause for the curtain calls
All the best now is spittin’ the truth, Why?
You’s a let down like convertible roofs, I
See the mic and murder the booth, nah
Killin’ shit precise like a snipe that’s on top of the roof, ha
«You, you, you love my style cause I’m not what ya used to»
«Caught in the matrix»
«It’s out of hand, how the man gotcha»
«You’re in my Dangerfield like Rodney»
Four finger ring rap, sling slang, Pharaohe the flow’s good
You couldn’t hang if you was Ving Rhames in Rosewood
Couldn’t string together some shows
And then you came when the doughs good
I’m Billy Joel, I really soul
Might dust off some red vinyl that’s really old
Or chop drums
On a roll while I’m shotgun
With a wireless MPC 4000 I got one
I bomb crews, I’m hot
I’m cool, the Top Gun, but not
The Fonz or Tom Cruise, I got
A pool of lyrical warn shots that you shouldn’t respond to
Like pant legs around the ankles of hipsters
I’m tight
Paintin’ a more visual picture than Pixar
Get more, skull than Skeletor or rip fuel
While y’all bite like parasites and pitbulls
«You, you, you love my style cause I’m not what ya used to»
«Caught in the matrix»
«It’s out of hand, how the man gotcha»
«You’re in my Dangerfield like Rodney»
It goes punch, shoot, stab, kill
Smoke this, sniff that, nigga pass the pills
Niggas rap about daffodils
Tree hugger
That’s when the gat clap ya grill
P mug ya
My defense is offense
Offense is nonsense
Drunk with a kufi on
Praying to Allah bent
Clark Kent with the glasses off
Power fuckin’ Lois Lane cause her ass is soft
Kryptonite, but I’m a blood today
Latin King tomorrow keep it caliente
I send Spanish niggas to visit your label
Rep for mi gente and take your digital cable
The God hard body
Y’all ain’t physically able
To test me
I’m Jet Li
This whipping is fatal
Blast skets
Y’all niggas is past sex
Acting like a boss get lost, what up Hex?
«You, you, you love my style cause I’m not what ya used to»
«Caught in the matrix»
«It’s out of hand, how the man gotcha»
«You’re in my Dangerfield like Rodney»
