Ondas. (Ft. SoloSolomon)

(SoloSolomon, Verse 1)

 

I got something to prove; yet nothing to lose.

attack this track, then G will rap; that’s the one thing to do.

Here’s the deal; I do 16, be a rhyming magnet.

Pass the pen; then put this beat in my filing cabinet.

They say I’m saying nothing; that’s actually true.

But I don’t need stakes and money; I’m habitually cool.

Tongue torture; reciting this be a tough order.

How far are we through this song? Roughly a quarter.

You think I force multis? They come like water.

I slaughter this beat just like I order a pizza.

I’m rapping like clockwork, not having to stop work.

Some of us can multitask well when we’re not hurt.

Was in the clutches of depression; I mustered a rebellion.

Broke free and now I’m lusty with a vengeance.

I only needed 10 minutes; soon I’m ending it.

It’s G’s turn now; come on, my friend, rip it!.

 

(G-Face, Verse 2)

 

Travesty that my limerence is imminent from this goddess of eminence.

Hastily holding all it's contents, heart breaks but I pick up the pieces.

A lyrical reverend, terrorist can't compete, I'm flyer than 9/11.

Soloing solid hits, G' and Solomon harder than Solomon in Jerusalem

White poetry reflects off prisms, like mammary glands do with children.

Mono-matic orange porridge, whores pour sore when hoes glow more.

Vomit spitter, ill leader when I grow four or more eyes to see my third.

No lessons learned, still a misfit who still never merged.

Miracle in disguise yet people still despise my demise with them or I.

Cry is to pry into the heart that frys the brain to overboard.

The art to handle, no babies to cradle, ride on saddles that flip tables.