Testi musica canzoni

Artist: Group Therapy (B-Real, KRS-One, Nas, RBX)

East coast *killer*, West coast *killer* (repeat
8X)

Verse One: RBX

While childish MC's battle over coastal fronts

I come with no fronts and smash in monkey fronts

If you want to be evil like Knieval then jump

I guarantee your punk ass catch the speed lump

The tactics, extract, morbid thoughts from the
mental

custom designed, for instrumental

Yes indeedy, lyrical graffiti

And this one's a burner, baby

Truck, like Toyata driven

True and livin drivin with the gat

Uhh, pop the clutch, let the Cold Crush rush

Then I flush wack material

That's if I don't mash them all to mush

Hush, let me burst, dare I gush

Cock-diezel cuts

Lyrical arsenal equivalent to arsenic

East coast *killer*, West coast *killer* (repeat
4X)

Verse Two: KRS-One

Yo, why do they make me wanna ruin they career?

Before I bust your shit let's get one thing clear

Don't provoke Kris no joke this

I don't ride no rapper's nutsac yo I stay focused

Beefin without skills seekin will only weaken

The artist speakin over beats and, you be cheatin

Cacaphony of small talent rappers, claimin a
coast

over instrumentals, ain't got no real street
credentials

Here come the philosopher hip-hopppin ya
correctly

Ignorant ass MC's continue to tempt me

Lyrics be empty like Alcatraz cellblock

Too many MC's rappin causin lyrical gridlock

Lyrical syllables interlock in my voicebox

Yet I'm still unknown like the X on Sadat

Just your typical, non-topical

Flex the optical illusion weak metaphoric style
you be usin

I check one-two's and who's in the house

Like shit your lyrics ooze out ya mouth

Whattyou think this is? KRS-One from the Bronx
kid!

East coast *killer*, West coast *killer* (repeat
8X)

Welcome to the New World Order

You are now under martial law

All constituional rights have been suspended

Verse Three: B-Real

The most scandalous, cut the bad apple, we can
handle this

Coast trippin goin on through out the business

East Coast West Coast anybody killer!

I don't give a fuck where you from I'ma Killa
Hill-er

I got crews on both sides together

Deeper than the ocean and down for whatever

Fool I can roll through any block

from Central to Westland Avenue, without my glock

But some niggaz can't survive on both sides

So they try and break off, eliminate ties

Fools got to get wise, better realize

True, enemy lies killin in the highrise

office, analyzing the song

Look at them red niggaz, don't even get along

Kill that noise, four niggaz bringin the skill

Mad caps get peeled if you oppose the Hill

Yeah that's right fool, you know who, the mighty
Group Therapy

The mighty mighty Aftermath brigade, letting all
you sound boys know

You're not ready to rumble or test this

Kill that noise!

East coast *killer*, West coast *killer (repeat
8X)

Verse Four: Nas Escobar

Now when I bomb like Sadaam, the world feels The
Wrath of Khan

Desert Storm in this modern day Babylon

I be the twelve disciples strap arms

All black on running your spot hit the safe and
I'm gone

Like a thief wrong, I keep the long 38 warm

Silent and calm, and blackout when the beef is on

Focus on your rap holsters, notice

I'm evil like the Exorcist to the locusts

Ferocious thoughts, are mergin at night

Like Jehovah towards the virgin in white

I'm wrapped in a turban for spite

Like a Israelite snatchin hoes up, my flow's up

When the fuckin world blows up throw your hands
up

It's a holdup, frontin like you down for the real

to make a meal, but when plan fold, nigga you
squeal

like Heavy Heel, but what's the fuckin deal?

East coast *killer* West coast *killer* (repeat
16X)