[Intro: NERVE]

Syntax

If you ain't with it then your shit's wack

[Verse 1: NERVE]

Yah, check it, check it

Tell any A&R suck a dick

Junkies rugged spit, busting shit thats combustable

Fronters puff your lips

Yo it's nothing, just the untouchable grub of a troubled kid

Running up a muck i couldn't take another month of this

Son it's sick, bunch of pupils glued to the screen

While I'm maneuverings the viewers, using Lucifers schemes

I'm loose in ya dreams, your misconstruing music it seems

These losers shooting droons with Rugers, ain't in tune with the beat

You, me? tell me one difference, you don't know

So tell me what the fuck is it?

Its that I'm subsistant, your from a subsystem

Queen bee tells you what to love and bugs listen

Couldn't fuck with it, your brain matter engrained with lame chatter

Scroll page to page just waiting for the day that a

Slay jackals, break factions, save packs and hate rappers

Wanna save face, I save faces in a plate satchel

This ain't natural, I sweat blood for the sacrifice

You just get numb and adjust to an average life

Under the pump so you front on your battered wife

Just another grunt in the tunnels of the maggot hive

Thats the life, spinning cog lost in the dimming fog

Skimming off top to reposte from the winnings lost

Living long dropped in your 50s via hidden clot

Pissing pot, living for submission and the ripping of

[Chorus: NERVE, Spekter, Mesc]

So if you think your rapping is sick

You better sit the fuck down and start wrapping a spliff

And if you think your lyrics are dope

You can shut the fuck up and keep sniffing your coke

So if you think your rapping is sick

You better sit the fuck down and start rapping a spliff

And if you think your lyrics are dope

You can shut the fuck up and keep sniffing your coke

[Verse 2: Spekter]

I was gonna make a list of rappers to diss

But I don't even think a single rapper exists

Shit, even I don't rap and i know that, so why go back?

I'd rather a nitro blast to the face

Coz ive been lookin cooked for days

In a hooded butcher's maze tryna book it from this place

Look away, you wouldn't wanna push it mate

Coz if you tip me off the edge I'l fuckin pull ya to your grave

Crooked snake, my balls are like a couple grenades

But double the weight, so when i bust, cover ya face

Fuckin disgrace, still stuck in this illustrious maze

And I'm still takin pills, still snuffin my mates

Walk with the lamp light, stalking ya camp site

Throwing up a hand sign, roping up my mans wife

Can I just relax for a minute?

Fuck this anything you rap is a gimmick

So you act and you mimic

Tryna practice my lyrics like its fact but its fiction and the tracks that ya spitting

Fuck off, how you gonna trash my religion?

Yo your mask must be slipping through the cracks in ya fingers

Blasted off inches and mashed under bridges

You're snapping your fingers and rapping with midgets

Ya passions are mirrored in the trash that you're bringing to the table

Just know you ain't able to pass for gifted

[Chorus: NERVE, Spekter, Mesc]

So if you think your rapping is sick

You better sit the fuck down and start wrapping a spliff

And if you think your lyrics are dope

You can shut the fuck up and keep sniffing your coke

So if you think your rapping is sick

You better sit the fuck down and start rapping a spliff

And if you think your lyrics are dope

You can shut the fuck up and keep sniffing your coke

[Verse 3: Mesc]

Mainline trains of thought, brain like plains of war

Lip rider spits fire in a paper form

All the flames are born, channeled from an ancient source

Battling with rabble ti'l your cattle is a safe to score

So wheres the flavour at? i just wanna savour that

The smorgasbord is not as raw, I'm copping all this tasteless crap

And I don't wanna make you mad but I think your tape is bad

You should reevaluate your life before you make a track

Plannin' songs with the hands of Hod

I just time myself with a Sandson watch

A candid shot to these branded cops o abandoned lots, with a Manson plot

Phantom squad, showing up in random spots

Coz my mans is lost in the land of rocks

And they dance along in a trance a lot til they can't no more

And their fam is gone

[Chorus: NERVE, Spekter, Mesc]

So if you think your rapping is sick

You better sit the fuck down and start wrapping a spliff

And if you think your lyrics are dope

You can shut the fuck up and keep sniffing your coke

So if you think your rapping is sick

You better sit the fuck down and start rapping a spliff

And if you think your lyrics are dope

You can shut the fuck up and keep sniffing your coke