CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : Reading My Eyes (Xero Demo) [Unreleased 1997 Demo]
The microphone molester, machete undresser
"Stupid-dope-fresh" type sh*t resurrector
Top gun, miramar, best-of-the-best-er
The leave-an-MC-peace-in-rest-er
The skill tester, the flex-the-gunner
The make-funner, the adversary make runner
Make summer cold with rhymes I spit
Kick gift to lifted dеlinquent wit
I be prophet, my hand—top it? Stop it
Fly likе rocket when I rock it
Lock it down with this perverse verse
Every f**kin' curse, a burst of hurt
Move crowds: physical fitness rhymes
Coke heads couldn't do my lines
I'm decorated like Christmas pines
My battalion rocks
MC's become silhouettes of chalk
Reading my eyes will say it in many ways
Losing my pride will save it in many days
Hit the dirt 'cause the words I spit
Will do more than just rip your shirt
I'll b*t*h slap your soul, contact the track control
You're comin' at me? You can't hack it, though
So ridiculous, watchin' my crew get sick of this
Wickedness, pitchin' this
Lyrical viciousness to crews and cliques
Made of men and mistresses
This is my life, the twilight in the fight night
And trying to see nothin' but the highlights
When I write these eyes on horizons
Die for my song, cry rhymes in krylon
Fire on, move men telekinetically
Esoterically beat-speaking with clarity
Feel my verity, heroism of heresy
And sever every MC I see with severity
Reading my eyes will say it in many ways
Losing my pride will save it in many days
Why not? What I came
Why not? What I came
Why not? What I came
Why not give me what I came to deserve?
Why not give me what I came to believe?
Why not give me what I came to deserve?
Why not give me what I came to believe?
Why?
Reading my eyes will say it in many ways
Losing my pride will save it in many days
"Stupid-dope-fresh" type sh*t resurrector
Top gun, miramar, best-of-the-best-er
The leave-an-MC-peace-in-rest-er
The skill tester, the flex-the-gunner
The make-funner, the adversary make runner
Make summer cold with rhymes I spit
Kick gift to lifted dеlinquent wit
I be prophet, my hand—top it? Stop it
Fly likе rocket when I rock it
Lock it down with this perverse verse
Every f**kin' curse, a burst of hurt
Move crowds: physical fitness rhymes
Coke heads couldn't do my lines
I'm decorated like Christmas pines
My battalion rocks
MC's become silhouettes of chalk
Reading my eyes will say it in many ways
Losing my pride will save it in many days
Hit the dirt 'cause the words I spit
Will do more than just rip your shirt
I'll b*t*h slap your soul, contact the track control
You're comin' at me? You can't hack it, though
So ridiculous, watchin' my crew get sick of this
Wickedness, pitchin' this
Lyrical viciousness to crews and cliques
Made of men and mistresses
This is my life, the twilight in the fight night
And trying to see nothin' but the highlights
When I write these eyes on horizons
Die for my song, cry rhymes in krylon
Fire on, move men telekinetically
Esoterically beat-speaking with clarity
Feel my verity, heroism of heresy
And sever every MC I see with severity
Reading my eyes will say it in many ways
Losing my pride will save it in many days
Why not? What I came
Why not? What I came
Why not? What I came
Why not give me what I came to deserve?
Why not give me what I came to believe?
Why not give me what I came to deserve?
Why not give me what I came to believe?
Why?
Reading my eyes will say it in many ways
Losing my pride will save it in many days
