Lyric Mic Contract
Brainstorm microphone napalm
This is it, words from a timebomb
Attack speed, fast as an F15
Raise the heat, light thhe gasoline
Overload, it might cause a blackout
Dead end
There s no chnce to back out
Hit the tripwire
Duck from the gunfire
Broken glass, screech n car tires, bodies hit the deck
As I commence to wreck
Eject another clip and drip sweat
Face of danger, increasin nger
Point blank
I smoke another stranger
Grip the mic tight
I see the brake lights
Hit the back door
I lay down cross the floor
E s on the wheels
He makes the rubber squel
Blood s on my gear
From caps I ve peeled
About a block away I sit up
Look back
It wasn t nothin but a
Microphone contract!
Dressed in black I stalk my prey
Parabellum in a leather attache
Low tones I speak, I speak to few
Just give me the money
and who the fuck to do
Four blocks away my aim s clean
Night scope on a silence carbine
Place my crosshairs on my vic s eye
Squeeze the trigger
Watch the brains fly
Violent? Yeah you could call me that
Insane? You re on the right track
But turn the sounds up
So I can stay amped
Do another crew and breaak camp
The only way I sleep is in a cold sweat
You think I m crazy?
You ain t see shit yet
Cause I love to kill and kill for fun
The microphone goes off
Like a handgun
It s goin down now
Grab your girl hops
No excuses when the bodies
begin to drop
Look in my face fool
It look like I m play n
Don t become another
Victim of mic slayin
What s up?
You want your feet in some concrete?
I got some brothers
That ll do you for gold teeth
But most the time I move, I move alone
Take a bat
Break your motherfuckin dome
Shoot you dead in the face
With a sawed off
One hundred ten degrees
Ice don t get soft
Cause I m hard as they come
I come correct
You can t handle the vandal hit eject
If not you better get
Out my face sucka
Or else you better be
A good bullet ducker
Cause I m a rip shop
Tell that ass drop
Five o Ice, yo fuck a damn cop!
Cause I move hard and cold
With a gangster stroll
Five thousand dollar suits
And fly gold
Rolex, you can t fit no more
Diamonds on it
Pinky ring, worth a house
If I decide to pwn it
What s up now punk?
Yo start to choke up?
You try to move on the Ice
You ll get broke up!
Midnight, time for a homicide
Showtime, somebody s gonna die
E hits the switch
And thouands of volts connect
With the weapon that s in my fist
I see a sucka in the third row
Try n to riff
A paragraph and a half he s stiff
I start bustin off barrages ear high
Mothers grab for their children
Tears fly
I m like a psycho
In the mircrophone zone
Speakers blown, mind gone
I can t be touched
Once my lyrics begin to fly
Simple stage radiation
Could make ya die
Ya got a prob nigga
you think your rep s bigger?
Hold your heard right there
While I squeeze the trigger
Cause I m a crazy motherfucker
That s no joke
My favorite smell is
The aroma of gunsmoke
I m bustin off another
Lyrical nightmare
Parents hate the Ice!
You think that I care?
Well I don t give a fuck
Cause I rhyme tough
Drop science, still bust the ill stuff
So now it s time for crime
And the rhyme is mine
Track the movement
Hide from the punchline
I rhyme with quickness
Microphone fitness
The assassinator
Stay off the shit list
This is it, words from a timebomb
Attack speed, fast as an F15
Raise the heat, light thhe gasoline
Overload, it might cause a blackout
Dead end
There s no chnce to back out
Hit the tripwire
Duck from the gunfire
Broken glass, screech n car tires, bodies hit the deck
As I commence to wreck
Eject another clip and drip sweat
Face of danger, increasin nger
Point blank
I smoke another stranger
Grip the mic tight
I see the brake lights
Hit the back door
I lay down cross the floor
E s on the wheels
He makes the rubber squel
Blood s on my gear
From caps I ve peeled
About a block away I sit up
Look back
It wasn t nothin but a
Microphone contract!
Dressed in black I stalk my prey
Parabellum in a leather attache
Low tones I speak, I speak to few
Just give me the money
and who the fuck to do
Four blocks away my aim s clean
Night scope on a silence carbine
Place my crosshairs on my vic s eye
Squeeze the trigger
Watch the brains fly
Violent? Yeah you could call me that
Insane? You re on the right track
But turn the sounds up
So I can stay amped
Do another crew and breaak camp
The only way I sleep is in a cold sweat
You think I m crazy?
You ain t see shit yet
Cause I love to kill and kill for fun
The microphone goes off
Like a handgun
It s goin down now
Grab your girl hops
No excuses when the bodies
begin to drop
Look in my face fool
It look like I m play n
Don t become another
Victim of mic slayin
What s up?
You want your feet in some concrete?
I got some brothers
That ll do you for gold teeth
But most the time I move, I move alone
Take a bat
Break your motherfuckin dome
Shoot you dead in the face
With a sawed off
One hundred ten degrees
Ice don t get soft
Cause I m hard as they come
I come correct
You can t handle the vandal hit eject
If not you better get
Out my face sucka
Or else you better be
A good bullet ducker
Cause I m a rip shop
Tell that ass drop
Five o Ice, yo fuck a damn cop!
Cause I move hard and cold
With a gangster stroll
Five thousand dollar suits
And fly gold
Rolex, you can t fit no more
Diamonds on it
Pinky ring, worth a house
If I decide to pwn it
What s up now punk?
Yo start to choke up?
You try to move on the Ice
You ll get broke up!
Midnight, time for a homicide
Showtime, somebody s gonna die
E hits the switch
And thouands of volts connect
With the weapon that s in my fist
I see a sucka in the third row
Try n to riff
A paragraph and a half he s stiff
I start bustin off barrages ear high
Mothers grab for their children
Tears fly
I m like a psycho
In the mircrophone zone
Speakers blown, mind gone
I can t be touched
Once my lyrics begin to fly
Simple stage radiation
Could make ya die
Ya got a prob nigga
you think your rep s bigger?
Hold your heard right there
While I squeeze the trigger
Cause I m a crazy motherfucker
That s no joke
My favorite smell is
The aroma of gunsmoke
I m bustin off another
Lyrical nightmare
Parents hate the Ice!
You think that I care?
Well I don t give a fuck
Cause I rhyme tough
Drop science, still bust the ill stuff
So now it s time for crime
And the rhyme is mine
Track the movement
Hide from the punchline
I rhyme with quickness
Microphone fitness
The assassinator
Stay off the shit list
