Swearsong - Heiruspecs

Raw rap track, leave your cracked maw jacked on the floor, take a nap

Black, white, red, said all over, got slapped with the newspaper-type

Flavor (whap!)

To the back of the headline, needle teeters on the redline

No thread binds me to keeping decent bedtime

Double ended candle burner, grab a bit of fluid, turn it into a museum

Wanna see me make a being out of wax?

Breathe and relax

I’ll drop it on the page, let me see if it’ll freeze in its tracks

I need this, in fact if I quit, I’m a be dead

Sick of being neck-deep in scrubs like an aggravated pre-med

From jump been dedicated

Talking that rhyme junk

Born out of records, boxes in car trunks

Bred to rap, born to rock like Bruce Springsteen

Louder than Friday the 13th when the blonde screams

Breathing harder, growing stronger

Your girl oughta know, that we can last longer

It’s like a condom when it gets broken

You either test yourself

Or for the best shit you keep hopin'

Keep holding heat

And as a matter of speech

This heat could make this to a scene from Normandy beach

That ain’t to say that dope girls stay tannin'

Its last man standin'

Reckless abandon

Battle cats spitting battle raps to shatter saps

Ladder game playing

Saying rhymes as laughable acts

Unravel the raps and find some insight or a fuck you

Wordplay so thick that a mack couldn’t truck through

Back, back, back, we go

Quarterback style backpedaling

Champion like, always meddling

We always moving forward seeking out the dope shit

You act like a pilgrim for the weak shit your settling

Novice or a veteran it’s how you represent YOU

Any way you do it, single or a crew

We always hit hard, got rhyme and reason

Breaking new ground while you pray to break even

What brain, heads full of trivial pursuit cards

But alphabetizing and color-coding them is too hard

So just load’em up and throw’em as they come

'Til they blowing back the sun, never holding back the tongue

Like the perfect romantic moment during a slow dance

Or a bisexual oral festival with no hands

Oh man, programmed for jams

Grown too big for these britches, but she can keep it in those pants

Damn, I’m a be in trouble with that double bubble popping like a pair

Of twins split a pack of Hubba-Bubba

Slither, wiggle, shimmy, glide, ride to the fly vibe

It’s all right, giggle and jiggle them thighs

Kids with the gift have arrived to provide the soul stirring, no

Slurring, closed current electric flow serving delectable technical

Blows to nose, throat, and sternum

Encourage over the coal burning of slow vermin