Rhyme Asylum — The Art of Raw

Слушать Rhyme Asylum — The Art of Raw

Текст Rhyme Asylum — The Art of Raw

[Verse 1: Possessed]
Got off to a flying start
Manoeuvring two hijacked jets into Isengard
Catch a lightning charge
And any sand that’s beneath my feet solidifies to glass
I’m insane
My lion heart roars from behind the bars of my rib cage
A formidable force
Got two souls and they fight for control of my physical form
Tighten the rope, commit suicide
And scare you to death from the sight of my ghost
My right hand has a mind of its own
At night I wake to find it holding knives to my throat
Fuck mics! All I need is one knife
To cut lives short, contract killer; unsigned
Vampiric blood type
Make you throw up the knots in your stomach to leave you tongue tied

[Verse 2: Psiklone]
My sick life’s worse than the worst death
I dashed a flick knife at the midwife
Before I took my first breath
Rising stars, burn the planet
‘Til it turns to ashes, with a magnifying glass
Reverse down the righteous path
My saliva’s fundamental to tranquilizer darts
Flashbacks to a violent past
Last time I saw an eye sore I sawed my eyes in half
Take drugs with no conscience
My pupils dilate, like columbine killers with slow watches
The Christ corpse hangs up in my house
Free running without my feet touchin’ the ground
Minotaur lost in the maze
So high when I throw us both off a cliff we’ll go opposite ways
Fuck physical harm, I’d psychologically rip you apart
But my rhymes’ll probably split you in half
[Hook]
It’s my time in this, my time
My time, my time in this, we get raw
It’s my time to spit, my time
My time, my time to spit, we get raw
It’s my time in this, my time
My time, my time in this, we get raw
It’s my time to spit, my time
My time, my time to spit we get raw

[Verse 3: Possessed]
If my name is put in a verse
You frame is put in a hearse and layed six foot in the dirt
Seven stars in my right hand
Highlander lifespan, burn stacks of Mein Kampf
Psiklone and Possessed
Raise the bar ‘til every one we drop is over your head
Anvil style, broken your neck
You are wack mediocre at best – NEXT!

[Verse 4: Psiklone]
Under the streets, hunting for meat
I’ll turn a blind eye into one that can see
Split identity crisis, I’m stepping in cyphers
With the breath control of adrenalin divers
On a path to supremacy
The universe expands into empty parts of my memory
At the speed I’m movin’
Within several seconds I undergo eons of natural evolution
[Repeat Hook]