Texty: Block Mccloud. Other. Master's Degree.

(feat. Jean Grae, Killah Priest, Pumpkinhead)

[Intro: Block McCloud]
Brooklyn Ac', muthafucker
You better off dead bitch, check this out, yo

[Block McCloud]
Well if you walk into my thoughts, you'll be wantin' out, ain't walkin' out
I got you now, I'm Block McCloud, welcome to the haunted house
Slaughterhouse, and homes to all your lost children
On milk carton pictures, who wants to visit? Thoughts are vivid
Forces drippin', a few sandwiches short of picnics
Kids is held hostage, hidden, for cost of living
You never seen a more starving artist, desperate
Flows is dark and twisted, not to mention shark invested
I'm the killer mortician, victims frost biten
Scar vision, chared flesh, is authentic, heart wrenching
Stalk women caught defensless on park benches
Chop a carcass in mark trenches, I'm sharper than Bob Ventures
I'll stop your body from working
Hit you so hard in your head you're not even certain
Spit ungodly verses, and erge a shot
My "murder inc" spills and kills careers like Irv Gotti, send out the search party
Dig dirt, the deepest, I'm Earth's secret
And search like these crypts, that's cursed in Egypt, the surface teach us
Sinkin', fifth deadly venom spread within him, spread like cancer
Temper tantrum, hit the bangers, send to damn 'em

[Jean Grae]
I place a rock on the gas pedal and drive
Til the cops blockin', I'm locked in a box, scratchin' the bars with an ox in my socks
Moments later, become the deputy sheriff slayer
The methods of mayhem, chaotic, methodicly sayin'
I'm like a messagenist, messagin' the track when we diggin'
And broke in, fine like grind, until it's finally ready
I'm worse then the kids in the Omen and Sharmen combined
So I confide in a rhyme, with companions, that say that I'm outta my mind
I'm steadily grindin' like Amish kids in the morning
Swarmin' like praise the Locust in Biblical times
I'm chokin' the river, with sickness, when being delivered this
Lyricist, slash stones or slash you, will shank you with the coat hanger
Mad Hatter rap that a, blast you with a black banger
Nah, I'd rather slap you with a loud, or then back nigga
So fall back, like a clapped animal, trapped in a cage
With taser shot to it's shit, deep like the rest of the pig

[Pumpkinhead]
I take flows to the extreme, but I don't skateboard
You got 'Kit Kat' raps, they easy to break off
I was born a peasent, but should've been born a king
I'm underground, unseen like an snuff film porn ring
I'm a bully like Devo, one man with three flows
The eye of the tiger, spitting a disease flow
X-Files mixed with Creep Show
Amityville book a career, with it's Eloheim with a deep flow
Brooklyn Ac's the squadron, plague is the other half
The shit we spit'll lift your click, like a hovercraft
This is it, you swimming with sharks in a rubber raft
I grab your leg and pull the veins out your fucking calf
Columbine slash big punish Shaft
Elephant guns aimed out your lungs, and blow out your fucking back
2004, the start of an arising
One hand on the plan, the other hand on the bible
I'm the man, your ghetto American Idol
Mister Diaz, wack suckers, will put it on vinyl
You a toy, pushing a trunk made by Tyco
I hang kids over balconies, like I'm Michael

[Killah Priest]
It's Priest, ghetto rabbi, black ties, clap nines
Bats fly, hell's open, shells smokin', mother cries
Tears of fire, here's that writer
Prepare to life us, grip the mic like pairs of pliers
I dance on track, handle gats
Deep lyrics, I was always too advanced for that
Brook's magical wind, but nope, I deal with crooks
Daggers and knives, I master the mind
Crafted the rhyme, like witches, the stew
Cook up like brew, my kitchen, hot pots, stove and kettles
Listen, the voodoo doll promotin' ghetto
Twist rappers like pretzels
Try'nna throw the salt in the game
Get caught in the flames
Melt ya'll down, only God can help ya'll now
I sit alone in the throne, with a belt and crown
Constant dreams that I'm Constantine
Guided by angels, rose with armored wing