Heavy Industry

Everybody know I'm the one, ain't no denying it
Nothing like your average you'd rather fry in a frying pit
I got screws loose something wrong with the wiring
Play with John Jiggs it's violence and violins
This ain't direct, this for all of ya'll-
Still will shoot a nigga in his foot, tell him walk it off
You'll be aight
I pull the plug, shut your organs off
Mano y mano you gettin popped, like a bottle when the cork is off
Extra dapper, down to suplex a rapper
Got em too stressed, you might as well recruit extra backup
Neck snapper, they say I'm the best rapper
All you niggas meet your doom, that's my mood spelled backwards
I'm in a rage, fuck minimum wage
When my AK is 47 that's middle aged
I'm as livid as a gorilla that's sitting in a cage
Straight Killer from the beginning you should have been afraid
And I'm gone

I'm a specialist in wildin', cause a riot telling feminists to diet
I'm a tyrant and a nemesis to Zion
I'm the giant on the premises with Leninistic bias
So I'll purge all the detractors if it benefits defiance
Existentialist on autopilot, pessimist in silence
Fundamentalist in science of class war we crack fore
heads and glass jaws, and smother the last four
descendants of regime change, wondrous past lore
A carjackin lexus jooker, gesture of a reckless looker
Sepsis, when I run in state houses with a pressure cooker
Hahaha
You gettin vexed by my stockpile of TECs
So when extortin you consider us the block's IRS
I digress, we the few that'll crush ya
Mapping out a blueprint for power while colluding with Russia
Executing gun control activists for globalism
While upholding... state terror and bolshevism

Watch your mouth, before you get slapped in it
All you gon do is run tell the cops Blaq did it
You aint tough, you aint from the hood boy
All your life you been considered a good boy
I'm the original, Queensbridge murderer
How you the illest when nobody never heard of ya
I flow like a sawed off shotgun, boom
Buck spread, guaranteed I pop one, make it hot on ya block, Thun
I'm the craziest in a hundred block radius
Come to your hood, find the crib, and spray the shit
These rap bars, hard as a crow bar
Beat you in the head make you run like a track star
Stompin motherfuckers on the daily
Run for your life I'm hotter than the third rail be
You brand new, I been in this shit
Get your wig split, for that subliminal shit
Everybody aint homie, everybody aint fam
Fuck the rappity rap shit you aint whohann
Be easy, I got my sights on you
You dead in the hood, I'll Rip your stripes off you
Motherfucker



Credits
Writer(s): Wilbur Bass
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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