X-Raided - Terrorists Lyrics
f/ Shaka Loc(Shaka Loc)Blinded, by the way of the Locs, the haters hold toExtinguish the flames, and blow the roof off with smokeWhether or not it's West Coast, it's Mad Man fa sho thisNotice the raw talent, technique, but not no hitsCritics crack frowns for holdin' the town downI'm mad now, just so sick of the same soundFormed a method and kept it, use it as a weapon against youBionic issue, to raise above the role of officialsChronic fatigueFlossin' for nil, innate hatin' chromatic emceesI'm chasin' faces of SatanWaitin' on Daytons, debatin' whether or not to shoot for the starsYou know who you are, but you can't keep on jabbin' the jawI worked too hard, everyone carries a bucket of bloodFrom the sweat glands of a Mad Man, there ain't no loveSo bizarre, drownin' in a lake called "Hate"Shaka Loc and Nefarious without a debate(X-Raided)Right before I bark like a mastieWith lines harder than masticSpit rhymes like bullets, swell up your chest like mastissesI've mastered this rap sceneBlasted every wack cat I've seenI've got the best flow, no match for this West Coast rap KingAnd that's fact, not fabricatedBlack Market advocatedWith rhymes to substantiate itIt's fine, avidly hatedWhen I rhyme tragically premeditated raps should be segregatedWack emcees and emcees with skills should be separatedDebated in Hip-Hop SenateEmpeach all Record label Presidents releasin' as many wack acts as No LimitNo critic is bein' critical of their pitiful releasesI'm Siskel and Ebert, two thumbs down, rippin' you into plentiful piecesSpit this thesis to the drug pound, flood the mic in a receptacleOn stage, holdin' my testicles, speakin' in tongues like a processionalYou're facin' inevitable spectacles steppin' to meYour mid-section'll be crampin' like it was stretchin'When a professional wreckin' the beatTears second to me, we all for total domination, COMPLETEVocal abomination can beatWith niggas like shootouts in the streetsVerbal automatic release at least a hundred rounds per dischargeIn hordes, who else you expect to come this hard?[Chorus 2X: X-Raided + Shaka Loc](X-Raided) Shaka Loc they playa hatin'(Shaka Loc) And we's aware of this(X-Raided) Cuz what we spit is devastatin'(Shaka Loc) And we's aware of this(X + Shaka Loc) Beware of this, Shaka Loc and Nefarious we terrorists(X-Raided) Fake killas be hesitatin'(Shaka Loc) And we's aware of this(Shaka Loc)Dispicable scrutiny, interrogated and major hatedStrapped across a table unable to illustrate itCertified Mad Man, made man, the script, the blue prints, the big hitsYearly annual licksGet my driver to stop it, the Planet must burn firstShatter Earth with terrorist acts, it's the block or the turfWhat makes it worse, is I ain't gotta lay down to hurt youThe verbal tec shells full of virtue (you better feel me)To kill me, all slowly while we sleepin'So watch for the heat-seeking scuds while you're creepin'Been peepin' out the wicked ways on how you be handlin' business, MidgetDone focused in on how to get the digits, and did itI broke down my heat in piecesNow chronicalistically speaking, you should have no liking for this thesisPoint blank, the bottom line not to understate this projectCuz where we at you'z about to wreckChorus (.5x)(X-Raided)We deadly, quick to perpatrate like they want to confrontateDJ's honor RaidedI serve emcees to get exoneratedIt's on to me, that rap that your Mama hatedCuz I created rhymes about jackin' and comin' after yaDoin' things that's crime relatedI'm related to all killas, all thieves, and G'sGot lyrics in my genes, my Grandma breeds emceesLike Dogs, say "Sic Him", I hit him, and split him at the seamsGo for the jugular, muggin' ya like a New York City sceneI smother ya like a Mother that doesn't want her kid to inhaleTortorous abortion, bodily forcin' you into HellSnortin' and exhale fire like medieval dragonsWe evil Mad Men, for hire we leave people in trash binsLeap with ferocity, X-Raided will shock all these trash rappersLeave your track with gashes like it was attacked by velociraptorsI'd be at them platinum onesLike Old Dirty Bastard I'ma get a GrammyIf I gotta run up in the ceremony with a gat and a gunUnderstand me, I make your balls splitI make your dome shiverSplit your throat, with a sliver of my platinum plaqueI slither over tracks like snakesDeliver raps with no mistakesI'm a cobra spittin' venom in your faceChorus (.5x)
