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1. |
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Verse 1:
Aiyyo, I maintain focus and precision when ripping
And shatter the stigma that rappers all carry gangster pretension
Instead my intention is to simply just hit you with writtens
The illest of writtens
Listen as I'm beginning to kick it with skill that's exquisite
And luminescent, yet devilish
Giving maximum effort
Although it seems so effortless, I would deem it evident
As I gleam in excellence, as the cream of prevalent checkers of microphones
I've got you nodding your domes and feeling chills in your bones, it's clear that I'm hitting home
For sure, I'm on a mission to flatten farrago foes
Ripping and slashing like Allen I does to a zone--
Don't need your dollars and cents
Just listen, ladies and gents:
Heed an MC that's flowing fresh like a new opened vent
Since
The realest heads are incensed
At the lack of talent and ragged raps of the less than authentic
Hook:
What's this?
Oh, it's a lyricist
Resurrecting the essence of rapping whenever I spit
And whatchugon' do?
Bless mics over every track that I rip
Presenting a wordsmith:
Savant is a lyricist
(Repeat)
Verse 2:
Let's get this cracking:
Roberta Flacking the wack, and
Killing 'em softly, while saturating the track with
Rhymes that are jagged enough to snap at its challengers
Yet placid and facile enough to be lapped from a chalice
The rap ballast is back to restore balance
And trap malice while making this music valid again
So it begins, this valiant cherubim
Battles the wackness that counteracts the game from within
MCs are corn flakers, dismantle them like the Lakers
And leave them laying like Sprite did to Kobe
Any takers?
I thought not
My thoughts rock
Like Though Trot
You ought not step to me; topping Scholar's a long shot
I profit not monetarily, but through love
"Supa Luv" like Jean Grae does: pounds and hugs
And not from thugs; rather I fill them with verbal slugs
Destroying their credibility, snatching their ice and dubs
As such the clubs get shut down due to influx
A rush
Of heads who're fiending to hear the tracks that I touch
With rhymes deluxe
My pad is the canvas, my pen is the brush
That paints lyrical images causing n!ggas to lust for more
As I build trust and restore feelings of much rapport
Between the public and MCs that they adore
Adjust the roar in your speakers and in your tweeters
Believe it: I speak with the heat and conviction of Jesus
Hook
Verse 3:
Hotter than most dudes
I won't stop, I'll dispose of you
After dropping and rolling you for you thinking you're close to
You know who
Scholar's flow is like Pro Tools:
Intricate, or, inventive, or, exquisite or never the norm
Better than yours; that's right: better than yours
Settle this level, leave you leveled and sore
For sure in store there's plenty more
Metaphors and rhymes galore, I'm tight raw
In this kind of war, my pen is a sword: it demands action
My Bic's Excalibur
My name is Lancelot
The Round Table's a cypher for fellow lyricists
I'm serious: who would dare say that they really ain't feeling us?
We spit it thus and fellowship like we're relatives
Never lacking intelligence
Touch topics of relevance
Meddle with and you must've been sniffing mescaline
Make certain your testament's written before you come testing this
Hook
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2. |
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Verse 1:
MCs waste 16 bars like America wastes water
While I value my given bars like I value Julie's daughter
True to order, truly an author, a fire starter
A mic sparker: Savant's been immersed in fire water
I've bathed in the blood of wack MCs that I've slaughtered
And lyrically tap dance on tracks manned by Henley Varner
It's a tall order to come against this rhyme bomber
Even taller of an order? Resisting this chocolate charmer
Ask Ms. Martin
Despite the glares that I might garner
I rip mics and flip rhymes like passes flung by Carson Palmer
MCs are goners
Beat them all like their fathers should've done
Speaking on sh!t they've never owned
And sh!t they've never even done
Sh!t they've never even dreamed to see in first person, son
Sh!t they've seen on TV or perceived through Big Pun
From Biggie's vivid writtens and from Pac's exquisite visions
From legends' lips, mic levels ripped
As verbal webs were spun
Hook:
Read between the lines
Read beneath the rhymes
See into the eyes of one who vows to shine
Through beats, mics, and rhymes
Dive into the words
Where the lines are no longer blurred
Lend your ear, be spurred
And witness skill superb: the illest you've never heard
Illest you've never heard
Verse 2:
What if an MC from the Chi that was ill sans a deal linked with a sick producer out of the A?
Except unfortunately you'd never heard of either
Though the product was like ether
And between them neither even cared to receive radio play?
With the same frame of mind to turn back the hands of time
To the days that KRS blessed mics and verity shined
To the days when MCing didn't to mean carrying 9s
The days when this craft gleamed and deemed poets divine
Styles ranged from spoken word, prosaic, and spanned kid
All the way to blazing surges: lyrical avalanches
Outlandish
Far beyond anything ever imagined
Enhancing listeners senses in a manner of ill semantics
Sigh of relief being released
Spanning the Trans-Atlantic
As we clear the streets of the beast that seems to leave this art stagnant
Me and my mans plan to advance and re-establish
Feast and vitals to supplant his recent famine
Hook
Verse 3:
Now I listen, stimulate my mind's vision
Via eminent writtens spit over intricate rhythms
Emulate the vibes
Reminisce of rhymes drifting
Through the night while I sit and
Lend an ear to high proficience
Now you listen to the musician
While I infuse in this the essence of true spitting
So true the booth's shifting
So true non-youths feel it
So true that it behooves you all to move like you've missed it
Recoup this music business
Remove those who've sh!tted
Restore this jewel's glisten
Resume her beautiful vision and tend to the bruises given
Reform the tune's ending; crush these wack ass stool pigeons
This flower we've groomed, let her bloom we soon witness
This flower we've groomed, let her bloom we soon witness
This flower I've groomed, I pray her bloom I'll soon witness
Hook
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3. |
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Savant + Three60:
Hit you with the concrete techniques, kid
Don't even waste your time trying to critique it
Two of the illest and it ain't no secret
Hit you with rhythms that'll leave you speechless
(Repeat)
Savant:
Concrete techniques bomb beats and cause casualties
Axis the master, Three60 his majesty
This royal faculty headed by Savant is dazzling like Maccabees
Killah Priest's faculty
Factual rapping seems to enlighten the blackened scenes
Of cats packing and clapping heat back against ghetto street tapestries
Gradually graphic scenes such as these add to the steez
And what many perceive to be what's known as "The Thief's Theme"
Play me at night, they won't act right
Understandable smooth sh!t that murderers move with
Ladies groove to it, hustlers keep their hands where their tools is
This is music for revolution: provocation of movement
Three60:
Moving along the cypher keeping the crown hyper
Ventilating with vicious venomous illustrations
Nothing short of amazing, rip it every occasion
Representing my nation, never seeing my chasing
Something I can't grab; Never f*cking with crabs
N!ggas be mad feminine; think their f*cking with drag
It's a little
Catastrophic the way I drop it
It's hot as a needle injecting AIDS inside of your Victor Equal
Eye now
Supreme alphabetical, dramatical drop grammatical, unstoppable, incredible
Hot sh!t
Partner in crime, Savant, knocking sh!t out of the box
Higher than helicopter cock pits
Savant:
And hot stock tips that's putting profits in pockets, just watch us
We're dropping knowledge; more importantly logic
Loading and locking open options like God and Jonah the prophet
No options: we'll keep it popping like Arabs with bottle rockets
Pompous impostors pop pills prior to popping sh!t
And politic when frankly their flows are f*cking preposterous
But me?
Call me the Loch Ness: flow is so legendary
Spit lyrical leven, spreading sh!t so quickly, it's scary
Three60:
We're kind of swift and we vary
Like how the weather be changing directions
In less than 120 seconds I'll leave you n!ggas regretting
Competing against
Fingerprints that'll pitch you like Nolan
And then catch you like Johnny Bench
The force of wind that we're bringing is highly destructive at the cellular level
I've borne myself as a rebel, n!gga
Sharper than a cactus giving you freckles
I'm slaying devils over Axis Infinite instrumentals
Savant:
Pressing your temples
Blessing your mental and
Wrecking your dentals
Elevating my fellow rebels through heavy metal
And never revel in less; we take it straight to the chest
And level n!ggas who settle and lack in meddle and zest
Three60:
Yes
I must confess I'll put the pep in your step
With so much finesse, this sh!t is dirty as an elephant's breath
The MC that graduated with his masters degree
You kindergarten rappers can't even move half of my speed
Savant:
And you mutt ass MCs is f*cking with pure breed
You mug mean, but you've got to believe we see through your scheme
Indeed
De La said it best: your nose ain't clean
You and your team, blow the sh!t out
Just ease off of the scene
Three60:
Meaner than Joe Greene, I'm like a dope fiend
ODing on this flawless rap routine
You ought to forfeit
My performance is enormously nauseating to the haters
We just demonstrating how we're defecating on them
Savant:
Emasculating all them, f*cking them up
Like a rattlesnake crawling, leave them sucking the dust
Three60:
Plus
We got a bunch of volcanoes erupting
Yo, we're diamonds in the rough, it really ain't a discussion
Savant:
No discussion whatsoever
The Universal flow'll dead you
Right after Savant exposes you bed wetters
Three60:
Yeah
We're bigger, better
And definitely unique
Sharp as football cleats
With concrete techniques, kid
Savant + Three60:
Hit you with the concrete techniques, kid
Don't even waste your time trying to critique it
Two of the illest and it ain't no secret
Hit you with rhythms that'll leave you speechless
Believe this:
Three60 on the scene with the MC Savant, we pledge allegiance
Unified over Axis beats
With ease we describe concrete techniques, kid
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4. |
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Verse 1 (Savant):
Aiyyo
Guess who's back on the verse
That n!gga that's been down to spit a verse since birth
Whatever it was worth, dropping bombs was the norm
Regardless where I was; either Young or DePaul
Son sure was raw
Son's words would draw
Visions in your mind of design so pure
Metaphors, battle lines, stories, plus more
Jones heard the word and saw the power of his sword
Macks said that he was sure he would take the Chi forward
Forward through the forest, his beloved culture
Would stir from her snore
For sure, she'd adore
The young'n, what he brung was simply fresh like a gourd
Ace tests, pass boards, max a hundred scores
Wax opposes forces, learn from his losses
Chart the course by which to resurrect this art form
Ease the seas with calm and bring the peace to the storm
And honor fathers of the fore
Scratch Hook
Verse 2 (Rich Jones):
Usually start it up, but now I play closer
Put in to shut it down, but I don't bring closure
Soaked in the culture; classics, the ambrosia
Got 5 on it, I win
If you want to bet, I'll loan you
No hate it's time to build, know the deal?
Rich hip hop, Savant, if words could kill?
Then I wouldn't have severed heads around me
Just a bunch of hip hop heads, all love, enough said
Apologies to those that were misled
But on my family and my bum leg, I'm well-intentioned
Family had an intervention because I was making dope
Lyrics that matched my wisdom and my hopes
Raised last on Midwest and started with the coast
But now I wouldn't change even if I overdosed
808 drum kick sensory overload
Catch me on the rise, or you can catch me no more
Muthaf*ckers
Scratch Hook
Verse 3:
Savant:
And you say Chi-City
On the real
Sh!t, for starters, Macks' track is stacked, stellar, and surreal
Rich Jones:
So real, don't miss us, keep your eyes peeled
Savant:
As we stand to set the standard, and we gather mass appeal
Rich Jones:
Masses yield, impart to them how we feel
Savant:
Blast the field's rap skills
It's real hip hop still
Rich Jones:
Instill a sense of urgency
Game's in a state of emergency
Invert the picture: we became the new insurgency
Savant:
Purposely working seams 'til we verbally purge the scene
And we murder you purty Gs sipping on herbal tea
Rich Jones:
Clowns and herbs don't be irking me
They're not deserving me
Crimes all in their minds, evil designs encourage me
Savant:
Such a disturbing scene leaves MCs avert beneath
Rich Jones:
This is the living will to the world we bequeath
Savant:
And in peace, we lay your pieces while priests may pray to Jesus
Rich Jones:
Decree to those in the bleachers
We'll see you another season.
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5. |
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Hook
Sun is shining
Weather is sweet
Make you wanna move
Dancing feet
Sun is shining
Weather is sweet
Make you wanna move
With me
Yeah
Verse 1:
And you say Chi-City
Winter's drawing to a close, and the heat draws close
Like I was sparking a flow
Chi-City's the illest spot on the globe
When the summer settles in and the sun is starting to glow
And it
Shows like the skin of honeys on the ave
When the honeys on the ave get to showing off their tans
Unless, of course, their tan bears resemblance to mine
See those girls are year-round dimes
Around this time, the Chi's sight for sore eyes
You need a paradigm? Catch me with a pair of dimes
See me? A para-don
My dames are a para-bronze shade and hella fine
Grade A; para-divine
There was a pair of times when the heat was a bit much
The heat wave, triple digits daily, a heat rush
Brace yourself for the return of such
Your boy's back in the booth, the hiatus is up
Hook
Breakdown:
Back with my baby and we're tying the knot
Personify heat, watch me rise to the top
(Repeat)
Verse 2:
Now I'm back with the heat that the Chi's summer brings
Or maybe I brought the heat of the Chi with me
Or maybe we collabed with the Man upstairs
And added Satch to the mix to act as the catalyst
Back with the rapping itch to scratch on Satchill's hits
And if this is the track that I'm given to scratch with, well
I swear to God, I'll need too many bars
Because this beat moves necks like porn star blow jobs
Taps feet more than Hines and Savion and
Cracks more smiles than Marlon, Damon, and Shawn
I really needn't continue the train I'm on
'Cuz a honey's moving hard like Sasha with Sean Paul
And she's got me in focus and set as my audience
No question, I'm destined to lay the charm, I'm
Sliding over and gently touch her arm, I'm
Leaning closer and starting to say to her
Hook
Breakdown 8x
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6. |
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Verse 1:
I really don't think
It's even possible to find the perfect compliment to match a mind such as mine
I really don't think
That a mind such as mine can fathom being tied to one woman at a time
I really don't think
That one woman at a time, one bosom at a time can stand my test of time
I really don't think
That my test of time has the same answers as my parents' test of time
I really don't think
My parents' test of time comes even remotely nigh to the times in which I reside
The times in which I reside even support wedding ties, sh!t divorce is on the rise
I really don't think
That with divorce on the rise, I should even bother crossing that line
Bottom line is I'm not wasting my time trying to find Ms. Right
When I can d!ck a different dime down every night
Verse 2:
I really don't think
It's even worth it to invest when my best is 10 times better than any man's best
I really don't think
That any man's best can manifest if he's obsessed with every set of double D-cup breasts
I really don't think
That double D-cup breasts are hardly what make a real woman
And yet...
I really don't think
That too many men even care; I've seen them stare like children because of physical fanfare
I really don't think
That if their focus is fanfare, that I should care for anything save my sexual welfare
I really don't think
That my sexual welfare is even on his mind, so fine
I'm gon' get mine
I really don't think
That I should open and share mine, if he won't do the same and he's just out to ensnare mine
So I've just decided I'd rather not sacrifice
If "d!cking a different dime down every night" will suffice
Breakdown:
I really don't think
That's it's really that difficult
We give just a little, we can meet in the middle
I really don't think
Such a thing is impossible
If egos aren't an obstacle
And hearts we don't withhold
Verse 3:
I really don't think
That this sh!t is rocket science
Without compliance, of course relationships stay dying
Despite this
We seem to be content with surmising
That men and women need nothing more than an alliance
And I'm trying
To understand just what the f*ck happened
Why standards for marriage have panned and crash-landed
And how the hell Hollywood soured what was established
As the most beautiful thing that mankind had ever been granted
Second to life itself
But understand that no one's built to spent life by themselves
Stuck in a private hell
Because you strive for wealth
And put yourself above all else, and others dispel
Well
Fine then, if that's the life that you lead
Don't be surprised by what sprouts from the ground you seed
Nothing
As for me?
Put me in the minority
The RAREBREED promising
Marital vows honoring
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7. |
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Hook
In my lifetime twice was perfection seen
Perfection blessed for my destiny
And yet twice time, I chose to tarry see
Tarry foolishly and choose to lose a memory
In my lifetime twice was perfection seen
Perfection blessed for my destiny
And what's left from perfection such as it seems
Nothing left for me as I marry a memory
Verse 1:
Fresh
Yes, she is
Fresh enough that she would bear my kids
Said she'd be the one to bear my kids
I see now that I wanted she to bear my kids
Bear everything, and be my everything and plus more
Unsettling's the thought that I had a shot to score
And settle the seas that seemed to crash onshore
But Lord, what'd I have to go be such a fool for?
She shook me to the core much more than any wave could
Yet with the same rapport bring a snore any babe would
Covet and reach for like I covet and reach for she
Though knowing she won't reach for me
Not after all that I said
Not after all that I done
Because after all of it's said
She's blessed that all of it's done
Because all of it spun and just dissolved in the sun
Like the wax on the wings tied to Daedalus' son
See the wax on our wings was trust
A must for any set of wings to function
Lose it and the assumption of any purity in one's actions is gone
Either frail like a fawn, or like a stag stand strong
Because all that we long for is rest
Alone with one who seems to bring forward the best
And yes, after all these years, she shatters all of her peers
And leaves me to scream through my tears
That Butterfly is fresh
Hook
Verse 2:
Fresh
Yes, she is
Fresh enough that she would bear my kids
Said she'd be the one to bear my kids
I see now that I wanted she to bear my kids
Bear everything, and be my everything and plus more
Unsettling's the thought that I had a shot to score
And settle the seas that seemed to crash onshore
But Lord, what'd I have to go and let her go for?
She shook me to the core much more than the first babe could
Yet with the same rapport bring a snore any slave would
Covet and reach for like I covet and reach for she
Though knowing she won't reach for me
Not after all that I said
Not after all that I done
Because after all that I've said
She's blessed that all of it's done
Because all of it spun and just dissolved in the sun
Like the wax on the wings tied to Daedalus' son
See the wax on our wings this time was desire
A must for any wings to withstand the fire
Lose it, watch it get weary and tire like any empire
In dire need of a king with actions to inspire
Passion and zen fire wired in her breast
She believed I was the sire to bring forward her best
Yet hardly was I as I failed to arrest
So I sit and reminisce and lose breath
Because CeCe was fresh
Believe me she's fresh
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8. |
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Verse 1:
Coming up as a snotty nosed brat, I was
Just that, man: a snotty nosed brat, I was
Loud mouthed, man, stayed getting smacked
There's a reason that my lips to this day stay fat, now
Nowadays I'd hardly complain
Since I hardly hear complaints from all the dames
I should probably thank my mom for all the pain
I mean, I might, though
She's largely to blame
Not blame, per se
But nahmean?
Man, you know what she'd probably say?
"Boy, don't thank me. 'Cuz you ain't changed
You talk just as much today as when you first came
You came out my womb gums beating away
Greg, that's all you did was talk all day
All day, Greg
Believe me when I say this: the English language?
Praise God that you gained it
'Cuz all the baby talk, the cute squeals and squawks
All stopped being cute before you learned to walk
Child, please
I'm just being honest
And when it comes to talking, you ain't never been modest
And not that you needed to be
I just wish you would listen more easily
Then again, it makes sense: you rapping or whatever
Still running your mouth, except your vocab's better
Verse 2:
Coming up as a snotty nosed brat, I was
Just that, man: a snotty nosed brat, I was
Loud mouthed, man, stayed getting smacked
There's a reason I excel at this thing named rap, but
Back in the days when rap became the rage
I was being raised in the Baptist way
Or rather in the Baptist way, doubled down with doctrine of the Daggett way
But my dad is a reverend and chaplain
So that meant marching in the lane that he felt God laid
Anyway, I'll make it plain:
According to Dad's way, rap isn't the way we should praise His name
His, meaning Yahweh
And Yahweh is God's name
And everything we did was to praise God's name
But see, Dad sang, and thought I should do the same
Either that, or do my thing and let the trumpet ring
Yeah, I'm classically trained, jazz masterfully trained
Now I casually play
Add that to the fact that my swag and ways are
Similar to Dad's and you've got mad strain
'Cuz I didn't want to sing, or preach, or play
And didn't think that everything should praise God's name
So we clashed and collided and still do today
The spats that we wage helped me fill this page
Outro:
It's the perfect profession
Microphone blessing
I MC, no need to second guess it
Yes, it's me: Savant of RAREBREED
Doc T on the beat and it sounds so sweet
It's the perfect profession
Microphone blessing
I MC, no need to second guess it
Yes, it's me: Savant of RAREBREED
Doc T on the beat
It's perfection to me
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9. |
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Savant + Three60:
Hit you with the concrete techniques, kid
Don't even waste your time trying to critique it
Two of the illest and it ain't no secret
Hit you with rhythms that'll leave you speechless
(Repeat)
Savant:
Concrete techniques bomb beats and cause casualties
Axis the master, Three60 his majesty
This royal faculty headed by Savant is dazzling like Maccabees
Killah Priest's faculty
Factual rapping seems to enlighten the blackened scenes
Of cats packing and clapping heat back against ghetto street tapestries
Gradually graphic scenes such as these add to the steez
And what many perceive to be what's known as "The Thief's Theme"
Play me at night, they won't act right
Understandable smooth sh!t that murderers move with
Ladies groove to it, hustlers keep their hands where their tools is
This is music for revolution: provocation of movement
Three60:
Moving along the cypher keeping the crown hyper
Ventilating with vicious venomous illustrations
Nothing short of amazing, rip it every occasion
Representing my nation, never seeing my chasing
Something I can't grab; Never f*cking with crabs
N!ggas be mad feminine; think their f*cking with drag
It's a little
Catastrophic the way I drop it
It's hot as a needle injecting AIDS inside of your Victor Equal
Eye now
Supreme alphabetical, dramatical drop grammatical, unstoppable, incredible
Hot sh!t
Partner in crime, Savant, knocking sh!t out of the box
Higher than helicopter cock pits
Savant:
And hot stock tips that's putting profits in pockets, just watch us
We're dropping knowledge; more importantly logic
Loading and locking open options like God and Jonah the prophet
No options: we'll keep it popping like Arabs with bottle rockets
Pompous impostors pop pills prior to popping sh!t
And politic when frankly their flows are f*cking preposterous
But me?
Call me the Loch Ness: flow is so legendary
Spit lyrical leven, spreading sh!t so quickly, it's scary
Three60:
We're kind of swift and we vary
Like how the weather be changing directions
In less than 120 seconds I'll leave you n!ggas regretting
Competing against
Fingerprints that'll pitch you like Nolan
And then catch you like Johnny Bench
The force of wind that we're bringing is highly destructive at the cellular level
I've borne myself as a rebel, n!gga
Sharper than a cactus giving you freckles
I'm slaying devils over Axis Infinite instrumentals
Savant:
Pressing your temples
Blessing your mental and
Wrecking your dentals
Elevating my fellow rebels through heavy metal
And never revel in less; we take it straight to the chest
And level n!ggas who settle and lack in meddle and zest
Three60:
Yes
I must confess I'll put the pep in your step
With so much finesse, this sh!t is dirty as an elephant's breath
The MC that graduated with his masters degree
You kindergarten rappers can't even move half of my speed
Savant:
And you mutt ass MCs is f*cking with pure breed
You mug mean, but you've got to believe we see through your scheme
Indeed
De La said it best: your nose ain't clean
You and your team, blow the sh!t out
Just ease off of the scene
Three60:
Meaner than Joe Greene, I'm like a dope fiend
ODing on this flawless rap routine
You ought to forfeit
My performance is enormously nauseating to the haters
We just demonstrating how we're defecating on them
Savant:
Emasculating all them, f*cking them up
Like a rattlesnake crawling, leave them sucking the dust
Three60:
Plus
We got a bunch of volcanoes erupting
Yo, we're diamonds in the rough, it really ain't a discussion
Savant:
No discussion whatsoever
The Universal flow'll dead you
Right after Savant exposes you bed wetters
Three60:
Yeah
We're bigger, better
And definitely unique
Sharp as football cleats
With concrete techniques, kid
Savant + Three60:
Hit you with the concrete techniques, kid
Don't even waste your time trying to critique it
Two of the illest and it ain't no secret
Hit you with rhythms that'll leave you speechless
Believe this:
Three60 on the scene with the MC Savant, we pledge allegiance
Unified over Axis beats
With ease we describe concrete techniques, kid
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10. |
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Savant + Three60:
Hit you with the concrete techniques, kid
Don't even waste your time trying to critique it
Two of the illest and it ain't no secret
Hit you with rhythms that'll leave you speechless
(Repeat)
Savant:
Concrete techniques bomb beats and cause casualties
Axis the master, Three60 his majesty
This royal faculty headed by Savant is dazzling like Maccabees
Killah Priest's faculty
Factual rapping seems to enlighten the blackened scenes
Of cats packing and clapping heat back against ghetto street tapestries
Gradually graphic scenes such as these add to the steez
And what many perceive to be what's known as "The Thief's Theme"
Play me at night, they won't act right
Understandable smooth sh!t that murderers move with
Ladies groove to it, hustlers keep their hands where their tools is
This is music for revolution: provocation of movement
Three60:
Moving along the cypher keeping the crown hyper
Ventilating with vicious venomous illustrations
Nothing short of amazing, rip it every occasion
Representing my nation, never seeing my chasing
Something I can't grab; Never f*cking with crabs
N!ggas be mad feminine; think their f*cking with drag
It's a little
Catastrophic the way I drop it
It's hot as a needle injecting AIDS inside of your Victor Equal
Eye now
Supreme alphabetical, dramatical drop grammatical, unstoppable, incredible
Hot sh!t
Partner in crime, Savant, knocking sh!t out of the box
Higher than helicopter cock pits
Savant:
And hot stock tips that's putting profits in pockets, just watch us
We're dropping knowledge; more importantly logic
Loading and locking open options like God and Jonah the prophet
No options: we'll keep it popping like Arabs with bottle rockets
Pompous impostors pop pills prior to popping sh!t
And politic when frankly their flows are f*cking preposterous
But me?
Call me the Loch Ness: flow is so legendary
Spit lyrical leven, spreading sh!t so quickly, it's scary
Three60:
We're kind of swift and we vary
Like how the weather be changing directions
In less than 120 seconds I'll leave you n!ggas regretting
Competing against
Fingerprints that'll pitch you like Nolan
And then catch you like Johnny Bench
The force of wind that we're bringing is highly destructive at the cellular level
I've borne myself as a rebel, n!gga
Sharper than a cactus giving you freckles
I'm slaying devils over Axis Infinite instrumentals
Savant:
Pressing your temples
Blessing your mental and
Wrecking your dentals
Elevating my fellow rebels through heavy metal
And never revel in less; we take it straight to the chest
And level n!ggas who settle and lack in meddle and zest
Three60:
Yes
I must confess I'll put the pep in your step
With so much finesse, this sh!t is dirty as an elephant's breath
The MC that graduated with his masters degree
You kindergarten rappers can't even move half of my speed
Savant:
And you mutt ass MCs is f*cking with pure breed
You mug mean, but you've got to believe we see through your scheme
Indeed
De La said it best: your nose ain't clean
You and your team, blow the sh!t out
Just ease off of the scene
Three60:
Meaner than Joe Greene, I'm like a dope fiend
ODing on this flawless rap routine
You ought to forfeit
My performance is enormously nauseating to the haters
We just demonstrating how we're defecating on them
Savant:
Emasculating all them, f*cking them up
Like a rattlesnake crawling, leave them sucking the dust
Three60:
Plus
We got a bunch of volcanoes erupting
Yo, we're diamonds in the rough, it really ain't a discussion
Savant:
No discussion whatsoever
The Universal flow'll dead you
Right after Savant exposes you bed wetters
Three60:
Yeah
We're bigger, better
And definitely unique
Sharp as football cleats
With concrete techniques, kid
Savant + Three60:
Hit you with the concrete techniques, kid
Don't even waste your time trying to critique it
Two of the illest and it ain't no secret
Hit you with rhythms that'll leave you speechless
Believe this:
Three60 on the scene with the MC Savant, we pledge allegiance
Unified over Axis beats
With ease we describe concrete techniques, kid
|
released September 7, 2019
Producers: RJD2, Camufingo, Eka the Mad Samplist, Henley Varner II, Oren Schauble, Montana Macks, Satchill Head, DJ Jesaya, GRANDPA-J®, DCPLX, and LMNZ.
Guest vocals by: SimONE, Three60 the Universal Ruler, and Rich Jones
Scratches and cuts by Kasparov
Mixed by Kevin Korveil at Club Head Studios (Chicago), Jonathan Howard at 79th Entertainment Studios (Chicago), Matt Mercer at Desert Rainbow Studios (Tucson), and LMNZ for LMNtal Sounds (Berlin).
Mastered by Seth Hamilcar at Ridge 22 Studios for Sound Of Cannae
Cover Photography by Kathleen Barthelow
Artwork by Paul Weinhog for Powl's Twiice Designs
Ⓒ & Ⓟ Sound Of Cannae (formerly Soft Bottom Records) 2019
