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Consequence

Genres: Hip-Hop

Black Spasmodic Lyrics - Consequence

Yo, y'all ready? 

Yo, Phife, you ready? 

Cons, you got that part right? 

I dunno but it don't matter who choose to set it off 

ATCQ, no doubt my niggas is boss 

Little half-ass rappers, y'all pissin' me off 

Time to dead 'em all off, yo, no matter the cause 

 

(Black) They don't make thugs of this calibre 

(Spasmodic) Who kept up the buzz the whole calendar 

(Black) Used to sell drugs out the Challenger 

(Spasmodic) Used to keep guns with the silencers 

(Black) They don't make thugs of this calibre 

(Spasmodic) Who kept up a buzz the whole calendar 

(Black) Used to sell drugs out the Challenger 

(Spasmodic) Now look what he does to any challenger 

 

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Now who want it with the Trini gladiator? 

Mid finger to you haters, you biters not innovators 

I take zero for granted, I honors my gift 

Champion pen game, plus I'm freestyle equipped 

You clowns be bum sauce, speak my name, it's curtains 

Hamdulillāh my crew's back to workin' 

Trash rap the dead pussy, kill the chirping 

No more fuck boys, sit down, shit can only get worsen 

And how do you touch mic with flows uncertain? 

Speak game dry, that flow ain't workin' 

Folks throwin' items, dem vex and cursin' 

Fuck made me wanna see these niggas in person 

Third song in, muthafuckas dispersin' 

Only to realize Donald Juice in the buildin' 

Big tune this for man, woman and children 

Back on my bullshit, Busta Bus then we kill them 

 

Photos 

 

(Black) They don't make thugs of this calibre 

(Spasmodic) Who kept up the buzz the whole calendar 

(Black) Used to sell drugs out the Challenger 

(Spasmodic) Used to keep guns with the silencers 

 

My nigga's spirit be talkin' to me, let me explain 

Not through evil mediums, tarot cards or Ouija games 

But through mixing chords and boards and even drum machines 

He be saying, "Nigga fuck awards, keep reppin' Queens 

And don't be taking slack from these non-rapping niggas, man 

That intellectual shit you spit, you better change your plan 

Especially when you see them at the lobby of a label 

And they don't seem able to outstretch they hands and admit they fans 

You better flame 'em in the J's that they standing in 

Ostracize they memory for not remembering 

The articles reduce their body parts to particles 

And dust the Dead Sea with their cremated molecules 

I'm leaving, but nigga you still got the work to do 

I expect the best from you, I'm watching from my heaven view 

Don't disappoint me, make sure that they anoint me 

As the blue ribbon pedigree, the best of show five-foot-three 

Speak of the legacy for short people around the world 

Napoleonic bionic people who cause the world to twirl 

Rip every stage with grace, look right dead in they face 

Live the Tribe principle of havin' impeccable taste 

Enjoy that breath like that one was your last one left 

If you don't believe me, Tip, there's truly life after death 

So refer to the Biggie covers and shoutout my Trini brothers 

And please check in on my mother," Malik Izaak, call me shorty 

 

(Black) They don't make thugs of this calibre 

(Spasmodic) Who kept up the buzz the whole calendar 

(Black) Used to sell drugs out the Challenger 

(Spasmodic) Used to keep guns with the silencers 

(Black) 

(Spasmodic) 

Writer:

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Are you remember?




Zed Yago

Artist: Zed Yago