Malachi Star

Curt Boetcher

Score: 14
/
Played: 93

Album:

There's an Innocent Face

Genres:

60s
Pop
Psychedelic rock
Sunshine pop
Soft rock

Moods:

Languages:

Featured by:

Φruru

Wiki:

Lyrics:

Earn upon approval! {{lyricsContributionDisabled ? '(While you\'re under '+USER_CONTRIBUTION_GAINS_LIMIT.WIKI_LYRICS+' Beats)' : ''}}

[Verse 1: Malaki] The KGB make this stage twice as dangerous as these streets Malaki and Binary form all these spontaneous beats Formed the lyrically elite, peace to the conquistador beats When we unsheathe our swords and the One Man Army brings beats to boards We tame your angriest beats, defy your atheist beliefs Malaki will get a crowd of paraplegics outta their seat When I strangle the mic, I mangle your ass slow and painfully Be thankful you still alive or the faithfully while the frames catch records eye You chose to live dangerously tanglin' with me You can't hang, I'll make Jack the Ripper look like your guardian angel Anger me, I'll give you enough mic cable to hang yourself Place your name on the waitin' list for hell with the rest of the cell gangsters And gashes on your back after lashes with the mic cords Warlords storm stages makin' mic stand pipe bombs And Molotovs out of Krylon Cans, meet my demands Or you'll have a Michigan mic massacre on your hands [Verse 2: Senim Silla] Bio-hazardous Agent Orange, Silla's airborne Infectuous rhyme lectures spit quick and effective Dangerous, lethal languages of slang could kill Murder he wrote, an assassin would rename my skill Senims a rough son of a gun keep razors under my tongue Strike with enough force to puncture a lung I'm lyrically harmful, literally speakin' Emcees I'm browbeatin', demeanin' and ill treatin' Get introduced to mines and meet your demise I despise rap guys and all they wack ties Cause in my eyes, all men are not considered equal Especially if you ain't one of Binary's people [Verse 3: Texture] I'm what you askin' for, I'll give you that plus a classic more And delivery, verbal total package raw, the mental matador Mic heavyweights to shake the planet core With one verse got you thinkin', "Yo, cancel the war!" You flirtin' with death, better off dancin' with wolves Or stabbin' yourself in the vocal chords with cancerous swords After this track, ya hit the streets recruitin' new thugs 'Cause we got your squad shook, holdin' hands in group hugs The die-harders, and I'll look like a monster in your closet Challengin' us is like playin' a possum with a carcass You could never win, hope your DJ specialize in medicine 'Cause the Athletic army conquers and divides your regiment The MI residence known for talkin' shit And got my reputation rippin' in the heart of "the mitt" A fortunate gift, bent lines that'll force you to quit Drop the mic and have you writin' for the source or some shit [Verse 4: Elzhi] These niggas backstab like they Benedict Drag they face in the mud 'til they mug looks like they bit a brick Bust like Magnificent Seven on horseback Unsigned but find my rap quotables in the Source ma- Gazine for fiends who fiend for guillotine sword stat my tongue is the stinger My brain is the stun gun, It's deadly as the one you put your thumbs on and squeeze from the bottom With fatigues but I'm hidin' in the trees so high I can breath on a falcon Jump down, sneak up on a emcee from the rear A predator with the literature, it shows through my signature Deliver more, did just for your clique Whats even more sick is I'm a visitor And plus they be diggin' more Scopin' the perimeter, sink within the floor, Terminator 2 Split your brain in two while you snore Keep sleepin' my train of thought is heat seekin' Fade your poor squad like drippin' ink from my pen and addin' Clorox Murder emcees and leave my fingerprints on doorknobs The court finds me guilty, might be different in the Lord's eyes An evil genius, I play a villain in a movie Fingertips touch the ceilin' from the revealin' of the uzi And its bloodsport, open up my mind form watch those slugs walk gracefully Where your head reside is now a vacancy Elzhi-on, cut the head of a python With a butcher knife long, when I die I want my third eye bronzed [Verse 5: O-Type Star] A sip of liquor, the flow picker with sensational wool And skin like brass, the gravitational pull Of two stars that's rotatin' like space vinyl Had me on the train like Lionel... Richie Broke then rich again, Illinois to Michigan Spartan conditions I won't bitch but switch again Style like tracks to smack who can't stab me I build excitement like Pontiac Grand Prix Wider is better, Iller is deffer Im tryin' to count zeros and hoes like Hugh Hefner The O-B-A-F-G-K-M My squad all stars, suckers we slay them O-Type Star I blew spots when I said things My thoughts take flight like black hawks with red wings Uh, slicker than a oil refinery I hit your whole system when I shine with the Binary [Verse 6: Lacks] Acknowledge the presence of perfection I could give a fuck about you lyin', sayin' your style is free when its tense like Les Nesman A freshman in this game and we tryin' to graduate I blow minds but you be blowin' funk from the last ass you ate Now let me ask you straight before I start trippin' Is it me, or does somethin' about your lines sound like Nas cause it was bitten? Your motor skill is outright and meanin' to act fast I hump rhythms while you couldn't Poke a Tone with Trackmaster The rap bastard without Wu-Tang Though, realistically most males are The differences is I don't judge my manhood by what my sales are If its about the boldest, I'm the most I'm coldest since winter To make you stop the tape and inspect the deck like you down with the RZA nigga So I advise you to remember your roles And tell your crew if they got beef, than I can bring the dinner rolls Over beats with swing snares and fat drum kicks I sing sweet soliloquies of souls and hold up chicks I mean chickens runnin' off in chickens like bestiality And for any nigga that want it I drop the beat for you to battle me Simply to prove at your expense, I be's the shit Squeezin' squares into little pieces like Cheese Nips [Verse 7: OneManArmy] A whack emcee is something I could never be That's like growin' dreadlocks while you takin' chemotherapy Theoretically, pen and paper is the recipe Alphabetically I'm comin' after you like the letter V If you ever step to me, the worst is yet to come You'll never get the best of me, call it like a referee Call it destiny, check the melody Break the law of gravity and lyrically catch a felony I make it harder for the next emcee that's my specialty Rappers better be tryin' to rap ahead of me I'm a hard act to follow I could prove it medically I'm sick in the head, I could move a crowd with mental telepathy Expect nothin' less of me, top pedigree Rap assassin, blastin' with syllable weaponry Shoot the sheriff and the deputy, don't be testin' me Whoever think they fat can get the Dick Gregory [Verse 8: J.U.I.C.E.] Its countless how many rappers over vinyl we scar I just rotate and dislocate your spine if we spar Even freestyle in French when I'm rhymin' abroad I'm in the party rhymin' off Bacardi Lime and cigars I rattle rafters, you battle rappers tryin' to be hard? Rap's blackjack and JUICE is like a primary card You secondary, that's why you gotta rhyme with a squad But genetically ya'll niggas is designed to be flawed Yesterday I spit game at your dime and she paused To let me see her thick frame and outline of her drawers So the chance that you been lookin' for is finally yours But see I'm deadlier than havin' cyanide in your pores I spin a rhyme, my hand is intertwined with the cord Slowly the mic is ripped to bits, my dynasty tours Big JUICE when signin' off with the Binary Stars The only person who could kick a doper line would be God