We're holdin' some steel, walkin' with Glocks, semis, nines,
I roll with fat-ass homiez that be droppin' heavy rhymes.
All eyez on us; get bucks off clubz and dope-fiendz,
We swallow prawns - you eat baked beans and dumplings/
You fuck things up; you get confused on simplicity,
I develop abilities, rap hyperactivity.
Perfect simmetry; you're a limited brain,
Haul ass, ma' man - I be deliverin' pain/
Not a second without second thoughts and double meanings,
Y'all day dreamin'; I be dirtyin', you be cleanin'.
I ain't a gangsta, I'm just a product of hostility,
And you wont be feelin' me 'nless you're crazy to infinity/
Mental unstability; I leave emcees in agony,
Bangin' black chicks, white chicks - the shit goes ebony.
I let my rebel yell spread, echoed off 'em mountains,
I'm from the North, homie, but shit, I sound Southern/
Adventurer, like Munghausen; eventually I am sunburnt,
I'm bouncin' through 'em blocks, which eventually get conquered.
It's con-firmed: Krit!cal's disturbin' tha peace,
My enemies onstage be gettin' nerve disease/
...Can I get birds here, please?.......Backstage syndrome,
Whack-aged kids on rampage with blown-out eardrums.
Dear mums! Don't break your children's rap CD's
It helps 'em write the right shit down in their job CV's///
Feedbacks, constructive.
Peace.
Krit!cal.
http://www.rapbattles.com/forum/showthread.php?t=271976
http://www.rapbattles.com/forum/showthread.php?t=271548
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