Capture Enemy Soldiers - CES Cru

Welcome to Kansas City

Ces is the strongest camp in the city

With the talent your committees got crammed in our little pinkies

You can tell the truth sells

Frontin' as if your records do well

With the multi-platinum status check was supposed to get you through fails

You’re small-minded and all eyes blinded by ice bling and shit

Thinking your rhymes are getting you rich

So you try winging it like Milli Vanilli live singing it

Spitting disaster, match up for the main event

Jack Ripper reverse gangster rapper

Kid is asking «Why is he bringing it?»

Cause we capture the enemy

Over 60 rappers remedied

Test penalty: snatch your energy like Bigby

How quickly the balance of powers shifted

Hip hop contains four elements, bitches

You must have missed it

Rappers are shifty, MCs are gifted and lead the masses

Every breath I breathe is passionate

It burns when I lace a verse

To whomever it may concern

I’mma burn them but leave the ashes

Possess number two pencils for students stuck-up in classes

Try learning about this rapping

Not trying to make it happen

What happened to fans clapping?

People breaking the beats now strapped in the streets

I guess being this real is played out

Stuck in a maze, trying to find yourself to find a way out

But you notice in Kansas City, most everybody is shitty

Except for this list of lyricists I wrote and brought with me

Caught me the few: Dr Who to Joe Good

Approach and Mac Lethal;

The Guild

Human Cropcircles;

Reach and Jock is my people, let’s see

Sundae, the Southside Posse, LeJiT is in

Yeah, even that crazy-ass Vanilla Trife is my nig

If you thought I forgot: I did not

Leave you off with the list

Somewhere along the way, you must’ve got Godemis pissed

It’s obvious

I could just slay you rappers but humble until provoked

After that, no punches pulled for the ignorant shit you spoke, bitch

Yeah, this is the debut of the Conglomerate Els

We can’t be helped

We capture enemy soldiers and take hold of this culture

With the iron grip of Bigby’s crushing hand

A bitter, quitter, fire-spitter

I throw the fuel in the litter

Flip the script on DC couldn’t see me masked

And a bare lit blunt set put flame don’t fucking flicker even

Why?

But who needs a reason?

Suppose it’s a sicker season from biting the hand that feeds it

Treason within legions, thought I was done teething

Well, history does repeat on something of the sort

So to speak it keeps me nervous, yet more observant

Serpents is looking for something like

«Don't forget about me when ya’ll blow!

Can I get a free CD and a shirt, man?»

Yeah, thanks for the support, and I’ve only got to eat

Shit, let’s see: wipe my ass and maybe have a place to sleep

How about a half of tank of gas?

And I’m certain: fobbing to smash the pockets

But hell, it’s all good

Charge into the strain and keep on rocking it when you’re finally ready to wake

It’ll be too late, too little only to find the answers to the maze lie inside

the riddle

All the notes with no fiddle

Our groups are some of the people

But who’s to say that’s a bad thing being that most of them is deceitful anyway?

Walk around with some homes like, «Where's the needle?'

Diamonds, bitches, and Regals, switches, switchers, and swingles

It’s all people minded, blinded by the bling of the shine

It’s temporary but you don’t hear me

So there goes another meaningless rhyme