|Viewing Lyrics for Quality Control:|
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my quality control, captivates your party patrol,
body, and soul.
For whom the bell tolls, let the ryhthm explode,
big bad and bold, b-boys
Many styles we hold, let the story be told,
platinum or gold, we use breath control.
So let the beat unfold, intro, on drumroll,
the lik, like e-tash and j-ro.
We harass n---az like we was the po-po,
we can rule the
world without Curtis and still blow.
Finesse, from SP to Casio,
your jams ain't def, you
ain't fresh, your'e so-so.
The name of the game is survive and prove your flow.
outtake Jurrassic syllable.
Cause it's survival of professional, radio,
comprehend, and heed the words of my pen,
survival of professional poetic
Soup, you plan on rockin' somethin
Oh, am I,
Zaakir's the name, the aka Soup, uh,
acupuncture from ya dope oldschoolas.
I used to be the bubble for other that couldn't come
now they be the lovers of brothers they can't front on.
Put me in the mix, LP,
SP, the elegant, poetic pestilence.
I'm carbonated, the
Highly commemorated, and the most celebrated
for connecting it, word,
verb, subject to the predicate,
plus I got the etiquitte, to keep it movin',
cats how it's done,
cause it's the verbal combat, position number one!
it beamin like a beacon,
if it's lyrics that your'e seekin,
whether black or puerto
people back us when we're speakin.
We got the kinda rhymes to getcha ready for the
to the mass amount of legions that came for party
Our temperature is freezing, all kinds of different reasons,
rhythm is the reason your'e checkin for what we've done,
please son, our thesis, we'll rip your
crew in peices,
your rhymes ain't right, homeboy, you ain't in
Well it's the angelic man, wearing klan
my plan parent manuscript, withstands bullets.
Flashing like a Japan tourist,
we command pure hits,
while you cramming to understand these contraband lyrics,
submits to pray, five times a day,
climbing into your mind with live rhyme display,
finds a way to remain supreme,
coming verbally artisan as if my name was Kadeem!
my team dreamworks, without Spielbergs, or spill words,
the Earth, throughout the universe,
I transmit, transcripts, transcontinental
deeply rooted in your spirits, uh,
I love the power of words, nouns, and
the pen and the sword, linguistic art of war,
no folklores or myths in my
the Patha Skylar Warriors is what I present, uh,
verbally decapitating those
Ja ha, veese ee vee lee la,
my words make sense,
you gosta get up on
YOU GOSTA HAVE VOCAB!
Letters make words, and
sentences makes paragraphs!
it's Mark Seven, 2na fish, Zaakir, and
Cut Chemist, Nu-Mark.
Yo, I make the pen capsize, the verbal with the
plannin knives, every pair that I utilize,
spit juice, I crack blood from
inflict truths, speak allah's ninety-nine attributes.
baby MCs drink pedialyte,
while underground doesn't like you, the media might,
but we the
elite will change that,
as we bridge gaps in this lyrical grudgematch,
brothas, we slug
Yeah, we bless tracks with the help of a raw rap,
imprint it like
paint tracks, all over your brain rap,
we mental manuever will clear and steer right through
we grand like Puba, understand that we move ya.
Hey yo my rhythm
reveal, rollercoaster real deal,
revolutionize, we active build,
I plant my dreams in the
field, and wait to harvest my skills,
for the starving MC, hungry trying to get a
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|14. ||This Is view|
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|20. ||4000 Miles view|
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