Krazy Kings Lyrics
| Song | Krazy Kings |
| Artist | Company Flow |
| Album | Funcrusher Plus |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Bigg Jus, El Producto | |
| I swing boomerangs and murder air attacks | |
| Blow out busted internet, access info out your back | |
| Clip cut you off, i'm too advanced for your little cause | |
| Pole position, my verbal contact no life support | |
| We'll maintain position, lift off to ignition | |
| Frequency feedback provide ammunition | |
| The brain cells panic sell two tons of the iq | |
| When the energy starts to fornicate, that's when i punch through | |
| All type hard rock tracks that's hard to the max | |
| It's spacey like mixing up angel dust and crack | |
| Yo wait a god damned pagan minute, then pause on that | |
| My styles the man like the ku klux klan be from deep down south | |
| Don't let one of these little emcees get lost on the wrong route | |
| Catch a mississippi burning **** that then catch an arson | |
| Land mines, destruction, far rockaway to carson | |
| You couldn't locate my synthy format using lojack | |
| Bitch i'm all that | |
| Scratch the bed numbers straight off your girls' back | |
| In fact black the injection of my lethal status | |
| Will ultimately break all beats down into antimatter | |
| You couldn't hang if you was bit by a radioactive spider | |
| I'm intrigued, your lackluster broken charted style | |
| Is unkempt and wild causing mayhem | |
| The battle rhymer mixed with tonic and el-p is ****ing lethal | |
| Like a african disease killer people | |
| And it's true i'm messing with your whole crew till you're bogling | |
| Cause your style is now off with a blast of the force | |
| It's the classic underground styles of the urban masters | |
| The krazy kings these thinking caps be sparking tags quick x4 | |
| It's been rated combustible | |
| Computer animated t2 | |
| Winds up enzyme fractal poly-residue | |
| When taking away what little time that i got | |
| The mind view in energy oxen i pick the combination spot | |
| When in 1985 they injected me with props | |
| Ten years of misdirected blacks killing, i'm back on the block | |
| Recuperating from the never-ending bloodshed of the war | |
| Though my pockets remain empty, my soul remains pure | |
| Retained it exists laid a whole education | |
| For the new rebirth of a super space station | |
| Practicing the science of shooting the planets from a distance | |
| While escaping without conscience of existence | |
| Or would be laws no matter how much i resistance | |
| From somewhere wicked in the west this way comes | |
| It seems that we underestimated satan once again | |
| Time marches on but some and then some blends | |
| Into the recess of all starving no content | |
| All for the form of better communication | |
| I bet you wish you could eliminate the whole lower class population | |
| I be the fund raiser for my own expedition | |
| A pro-black family mind reconditioning | |
| For the multi-colored pumas are no longer the flavor | |
| Unless you're one of those techno transient jungle ravers | |
| It's the classic underground styles of the urban masters | |
| The krazy kings be thinking caps and sparking tags quick x4 | |
| I strike a match for you two dollar mc's that can't burn | |
| This is for your own concern | |
| I burn images in retinas for all you bitches faking | |
| You couldn't download my multi-disk without penetrating | |
| Complex quotes set to explode off of impact | |
| But it sees to that disco boogie mayhem dance track | |
| Lookie bitch at poetry that's on track like a bookie | |
| More heads be jocking my shit than a droptop at dookie | |
| Peep this, put together the form into pieces | |
| That form the eight steps for your mind increases | |
| Another ass whipping slashing my burn to pieces | |
| It's mad bogus, i'm fading in and out of focus | |
| Cock shoot cops tax me, i'm taxing you | |
| My gunshots scream nerve wracking, heads is pushing through | |
| Intensity, i booby-trap all known vicinities | |
| Leave you stinking like face guts in a dumpster in little italy | |
| It's the classic underground styles of the urban masters | |
| The krazy kings be thinking caps and sparking tags quick x8 |
| zuo ci : Bigg Jus, El Producto | |
| I swing boomerangs and murder air attacks | |
| Blow out busted internet, access info out your back | |
| Clip cut you off, i' m too advanced for your little cause | |
| Pole position, my verbal contact no life support | |
| We' ll maintain position, lift off to ignition | |
| Frequency feedback provide ammunition | |
| The brain cells panic sell two tons of the iq | |
| When the energy starts to fornicate, that' s when i punch through | |
| All type hard rock tracks that' s hard to the max | |
| It' s spacey like mixing up angel dust and crack | |
| Yo wait a god damned pagan minute, then pause on that | |
| My styles the man like the ku klux klan be from deep down south | |
| Don' t let one of these little emcees get lost on the wrong route | |
| Catch a mississippi burning that then catch an arson | |
| Land mines, destruction, far rockaway to carson | |
| You couldn' t locate my synthy format using lojack | |
| Bitch i' m all that | |
| Scratch the bed numbers straight off your girls' back | |
| In fact black the injection of my lethal status | |
| Will ultimately break all beats down into antimatter | |
| You couldn' t hang if you was bit by a radioactive spider | |
| I' m intrigued, your lackluster broken charted style | |
| Is unkempt and wild causing mayhem | |
| The battle rhymer mixed with tonic and elp is ing lethal | |
| Like a african disease killer people | |
| And it' s true i' m messing with your whole crew till you' re bogling | |
| Cause your style is now off with a blast of the force | |
| It' s the classic underground styles of the urban masters | |
| The krazy kings these thinking caps be sparking tags quick x4 | |
| It' s been rated combustible | |
| Computer animated t2 | |
| Winds up enzyme fractal polyresidue | |
| When taking away what little time that i got | |
| The mind view in energy oxen i pick the combination spot | |
| When in 1985 they injected me with props | |
| Ten years of misdirected blacks killing, i' m back on the block | |
| Recuperating from the neverending bloodshed of the war | |
| Though my pockets remain empty, my soul remains pure | |
| Retained it exists laid a whole education | |
| For the new rebirth of a super space station | |
| Practicing the science of shooting the planets from a distance | |
| While escaping without conscience of existence | |
| Or would be laws no matter how much i resistance | |
| From somewhere wicked in the west this way comes | |
| It seems that we underestimated satan once again | |
| Time marches on but some and then some blends | |
| Into the recess of all starving no content | |
| All for the form of better communication | |
| I bet you wish you could eliminate the whole lower class population | |
| I be the fund raiser for my own expedition | |
| A problack family mind reconditioning | |
| For the multicolored pumas are no longer the flavor | |
| Unless you' re one of those techno transient jungle ravers | |
| It' s the classic underground styles of the urban masters | |
| The krazy kings be thinking caps and sparking tags quick x4 | |
| I strike a match for you two dollar mc' s that can' t burn | |
| This is for your own concern | |
| I burn images in retinas for all you bitches faking | |
| You couldn' t download my multidisk without penetrating | |
| Complex quotes set to explode off of impact | |
| But it sees to that disco boogie mayhem dance track | |
| Lookie bitch at poetry that' s on track like a bookie | |
| More heads be jocking my shit than a droptop at dookie | |
| Peep this, put together the form into pieces | |
| That form the eight steps for your mind increases | |
| Another ass whipping slashing my burn to pieces | |
| It' s mad bogus, i' m fading in and out of focus | |
| Cock shoot cops tax me, i' m taxing you | |
| My gunshots scream nerve wracking, heads is pushing through | |
| Intensity, i boobytrap all known vicinities | |
| Leave you stinking like face guts in a dumpster in little italy | |
| It' s the classic underground styles of the urban masters | |
| The krazy kings be thinking caps and sparking tags quick x8 |
| zuò cí : Bigg Jus, El Producto | |
| I swing boomerangs and murder air attacks | |
| Blow out busted internet, access info out your back | |
| Clip cut you off, i' m too advanced for your little cause | |
| Pole position, my verbal contact no life support | |
| We' ll maintain position, lift off to ignition | |
| Frequency feedback provide ammunition | |
| The brain cells panic sell two tons of the iq | |
| When the energy starts to fornicate, that' s when i punch through | |
| All type hard rock tracks that' s hard to the max | |
| It' s spacey like mixing up angel dust and crack | |
| Yo wait a god damned pagan minute, then pause on that | |
| My styles the man like the ku klux klan be from deep down south | |
| Don' t let one of these little emcees get lost on the wrong route | |
| Catch a mississippi burning that then catch an arson | |
| Land mines, destruction, far rockaway to carson | |
| You couldn' t locate my synthy format using lojack | |
| Bitch i' m all that | |
| Scratch the bed numbers straight off your girls' back | |
| In fact black the injection of my lethal status | |
| Will ultimately break all beats down into antimatter | |
| You couldn' t hang if you was bit by a radioactive spider | |
| I' m intrigued, your lackluster broken charted style | |
| Is unkempt and wild causing mayhem | |
| The battle rhymer mixed with tonic and elp is ing lethal | |
| Like a african disease killer people | |
| And it' s true i' m messing with your whole crew till you' re bogling | |
| Cause your style is now off with a blast of the force | |
| It' s the classic underground styles of the urban masters | |
| The krazy kings these thinking caps be sparking tags quick x4 | |
| It' s been rated combustible | |
| Computer animated t2 | |
| Winds up enzyme fractal polyresidue | |
| When taking away what little time that i got | |
| The mind view in energy oxen i pick the combination spot | |
| When in 1985 they injected me with props | |
| Ten years of misdirected blacks killing, i' m back on the block | |
| Recuperating from the neverending bloodshed of the war | |
| Though my pockets remain empty, my soul remains pure | |
| Retained it exists laid a whole education | |
| For the new rebirth of a super space station | |
| Practicing the science of shooting the planets from a distance | |
| While escaping without conscience of existence | |
| Or would be laws no matter how much i resistance | |
| From somewhere wicked in the west this way comes | |
| It seems that we underestimated satan once again | |
| Time marches on but some and then some blends | |
| Into the recess of all starving no content | |
| All for the form of better communication | |
| I bet you wish you could eliminate the whole lower class population | |
| I be the fund raiser for my own expedition | |
| A problack family mind reconditioning | |
| For the multicolored pumas are no longer the flavor | |
| Unless you' re one of those techno transient jungle ravers | |
| It' s the classic underground styles of the urban masters | |
| The krazy kings be thinking caps and sparking tags quick x4 | |
| I strike a match for you two dollar mc' s that can' t burn | |
| This is for your own concern | |
| I burn images in retinas for all you bitches faking | |
| You couldn' t download my multidisk without penetrating | |
| Complex quotes set to explode off of impact | |
| But it sees to that disco boogie mayhem dance track | |
| Lookie bitch at poetry that' s on track like a bookie | |
| More heads be jocking my shit than a droptop at dookie | |
| Peep this, put together the form into pieces | |
| That form the eight steps for your mind increases | |
| Another ass whipping slashing my burn to pieces | |
| It' s mad bogus, i' m fading in and out of focus | |
| Cock shoot cops tax me, i' m taxing you | |
| My gunshots scream nerve wracking, heads is pushing through | |
| Intensity, i boobytrap all known vicinities | |
| Leave you stinking like face guts in a dumpster in little italy | |
| It' s the classic underground styles of the urban masters | |
| The krazy kings be thinking caps and sparking tags quick x8 |
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