My introduction (исполнитель: Hush)
Verse 1 I put my life in this game and vow to always kill it Make you [bad word] feel it with blood I gotta spill it fo real I got a lifeliine of thoughts up in a lifetime beast of burned words that blazed just at the right time Heat my own fury and spwak with no worries No trial [bad word] a judge I can be my own jury In no hurry I'm raw like [bad word] scenes with [bad word] And I'll rip like torn seams cursed [bad word] on wax and not plastic I'm here to shake the world with a verse that's so drastic Go spastic with mics beats and sarcastic speech Til your parents scream 'That kids fantastic!' Went from the corners in hoods with slurred words 40 bottles, white girls in suburbs Now I'm here to reach out to anyone with an ear The new Johnny's in town I'm taking over this year [bad word] (I'd like to make an introduction) [bad word] (I'd like to make an introduction) (I'd like to make an introduction) It's the H-U-S- (I'd like to make an introduction) [bad word] [bad word] (I'd like to make an introduction) (I'd like to make an introduction) It's the H-U-S- Verse 2 I'm a Detroit villian from streets Where the cold can [bad word] a man in just 0 degrees and emcees Can spit sick flows in the streets to sick beats We get dirty in the and the dirt is discreet [bad word] me the wrong way and I'll spark and cry pain I'm a walking matchstick with gasoline in my veins I'm known to shape shift on rappers that ain't [bad word] Put ya best emcee to the test he can't spit [bad word] from the city of boom and Motown When the [bad word] gets thick in the it goes down It's like the wild wild west and I'm Billy the Kid Silly of kids to go against the realest at this For all you other [bad word] with nerve can get served [bad word] to a fork in the road and don't swerve [bad word] I'm not your friend this time you met your maker Not the butcher, the baker or the candlestick maker [bad word] Verse 3 I can't stand it when I think to much Sick thoughts drive me [bad word] and I start to lose touch My thoughts turn into homicidal poetry Every time I murda these beats you gotta know it's me I step to the plate with a sense of hip-hop Cuz it's kill or be killed when I rhyme or get shot Don't talk the talk if you can't walk the walk Cuz you know phony rappers get outlined in chalk I'm the king of my own throne the rest are bystanders Walking the streets with a [bad word] like Highlanders Where I'm from the smiles are just frowns And when the guns go up [bad word] down Dark clouds cover my city all day And the sun doesn't shine in the spots that we play We rip mics and turn verse to presentation So you can see in our world exactly what we facin? [bad word]