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Rhymin' wit kel Lyrics by Keith Murray
Rhymin' wit kel by Keith Murray
If heads only knew!
I Make music of murder and mayhhem for all of them
And murder ballads for sweet chariots
My second return like a unstoppable bullet
With wings my ears ring your name when you speak of me in vein
Enter the center like a big bread winner
So L.O.D. can eat that ass up for dinner
I come with high potent deadly quotin'
Avenue corrodin' street life sh*t to get you open
Niggas pullin' stunts like Jackie Chan
Not knowin' that they f**kin' with the demolition man
I'm seen on screens and magazines
Pump, pump (don't sleep) but peace to Queens
I hollar Allah U Akhbar my peeps hold me down
In the roughest pair of Timbs that ever touched the ground
Huhh hows about a broken jaw
It's Keith Murray and I'm comin' in with the raw metaphors
When I'm alone in my room
Sometimes I stare at the wall
And in the back of my mind
I hear my conscience call
Rock, rock on
Original rules, original rules, original rules X2
Now heere we go again soundin' crazy but it's contagious
The sickest entertainer puttin' your brain though strainers
We smokes the choc', don't be afraid of the dark
Mentals get hit brain cells spark
Pappers swear they got the dopest jam on the shelf
But they don't believe that sh*t they own goddamn self
Last year I was underrated but I stay dedicated
I'm so dedicated I close my eyes I'm incarerated
Niggas was amazed at the sh*t you was kickin'
But all you did was adobo the chicken
I"m taking over like the psychic network
I got the drop on all you niggas out there claimin' that you do dirt
But the truth hurts and it kills you to listen
Like the sound of hollow point tip bullets whistlin'
Every little breath you take
Every little gesture you make
Every little jack you fake
I be the expert mic gladiator
Pop sh*t on records I'll cut your fingers off later
Pump the new smash platium single the thug star spangled banner
Illustratin' grammer in a hostile manner
Texas chainsaw cuts hard to the core
Makin' sure they don't try to battle me no more
You seem to believe all you need is a rhyme and a dream
To defeat the all time great microphone supreme
But wake up cuz you playin' with the game of death
I'll smoke your body ashes in a blunt and leave no evidence left
Straight ashes ashes, dust to dust
I got you in my clutch there's nothing further more to discuss
And it's scary though when the eeriest voice on the radio
Is in your hometown doin' the show
With the technique that I'm usin' choosin'
Got more flow than D'Angelo crusin'
With poisonous venom Oh my God I get in em'
Turn 'em out give 'em something good to talk about
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