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Nine Thou Songtext
von Styles of Beyond

Nine Thou Songtext

Hey yo, first thing's first
It's time to shake ground, in the eighth round
Box battle and break down
For the beak in the rhyme tone
Jump in the cyclone
S-T-Y-L-E-S, yes I know
Give the rap phene vaccine
Packed red beam
Put 'em up (what the fuck)
You plucked a bad seed
Off the wall, spittin' the guerilla tag team
What's up now, duck down, stuff that can't breathe.
Yo, you know the routine, the demon effect
Please, don't step, you wanna be one of my pet peeves
The more beef the better; sound strange
But you all wanna creep together, ok
Ok, In the club what a cheesy sweater
Why not? We got so much street credit, the rookie police let us
Now that's foolish, 'cause we don't act sweet
So come and get your head crackin' up at me.
Keep it- movin' it's on now
Making it punk rile
Shaking the funk rile
Rip it apart style
Fakin' the funk pal
Dunk watch the punk
What now? Watch your battleship get sunk down
Click (click) pow (pow) nine (nine) thou (thou).
What? Just what I thought, what's up now?
Click (click) pow (pow) nine (nine) thou (thou).
What? Just what I thought, what's up now?
Hold it down, never give in
Styles ever get limbs
Or whether you want it to end
Dirty m'again, I burn him again
05 serving them sins
Or 30 your friends get knocked out, turbuline wind
Hopped out, what you want, take a look at grin
I'm a fish; you can tell by the flippers or fins
C'mon.
Yo, I got a wack style
Taking the offspring, and joke with 'em
With a distorted guitar string
Who am i? Russian roulette? Komoti
Cruising your bed how to make Quebec in July
Area 51, stereo, vibe gun live
Here we go, S-O-B drop some
We are the kids in the hall with the new lactate
Blast from both angles like Boondock Saints
So get up, get up and let the sound hit ya
Snap this audio-style picture.
Keep it- movin' it's on now
Making it punk rile
Shaking the funk rile
Rip it apart style
Fakin' the funk pal
Dunk watch the punk
What now? Watch your battleship get sunk down
Click (click) pow (pow) knocked (knocked) out (out).
What? Just what I thought, what's up now?
Click (click) pow (pow) knocked (knocked) out (out).
What? Just what I thought, what's up now?
Who the hell wear splittin' the belly up on a selfish
In any your style playin' the fell blitz
Drillin' your brain, like rap and video games
Feel the syringe able the styles that's stickin' in your veins.
Yo, what kind of shit is he on?
Really is styles, really be on
C'mon punk fuck off; You really gotta be gone
Ripped out of your brain
Pissed covered in shit to diss this S-O-B game
Son of a bitch
I'ma start killin' for kicks
There ain't an Air Force One in the globe I can't fig, get it?
I'm sick with it, when I spit the venom
And it drip's up in 'em
And it get's the women
In a quick dilemma; We can settle it now
And I don't know who did it, but they said it was styles.
Click (click) pow (pow) knocked (knocked) out (out).
What? Just what I thought, what's up now?
Click (click) pow (pow) knocked (knocked) out (out).
What? Just what I thought, what's up now?
Click (click) pow (pow) knocked (knocked) out (out).
What? Just what I thought, what's up now?

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