[Holocaust] Warcloud, Sobretti, Roadblock, Professional (that's me mother fucker!) I'd like to give a phat shout out to my nigga Bootface, giving you boots to the face The American Poets, yo: I pop you in the back of the wig with an old pistol Balcony to horse like old John Wilkes Booth Speak with impediments, murderer in your residence Marshals gun me down in a bath house in Lexingberg Warcloud, Elephant-man, skeleton hand Stash the Crown Jewels in a statue, I came to blast you Gun-Powder-Keg we make wine in a bath tub During prohibition I munch grapes and blast slugs Eighty-eight glass jugs, dusty rifle on war plaque Wolf pack of raw cats, slump you with heavy tall gats A ghost wrapped in bandages laughed his way up the burgundy Five city kids wearing eye patches in the thirties I lick off shots from a crop-duster, granola raps Chicks get a hold of that, come and sit on a soldiers lap You have a weak ass flow that I shall administer to Gangs tackle crews, sight spinner, the wine opener Bump you till I slump you, Warcloud the butcher dumps you A pyramid made of pearl came from ?Talumpu? Unquenchable fire, I cut you open with water Trap you with a jagged earth structure and proceed to slaughter Call my rap Carnage, one-million and eight crowns This is the carnival of the carnivorous clowns, atomic sound The wood cutter where birds flock, busting crazy absurd shots Ultimate heavy cannon mega ton blast and dash Last zombie swordsmen came to blast the city Eat a hungry planet, wander the scarlet rain Deranged and insane, my rhymes liquidize your brain It's the executioner song with spiked chains Race hammer slam a weak rapper beneath the concrete A heavy dead horse just galloped in from Long Beach My rhyme style is crazy like piranhas that eat a baby Cyber Tropic what your whole crew is snuffed
[Chorus 4X: Holocaust & Pro the Leader] The American Poets (Cyber Tropical Murder Raps) This is Alcatraz, Bang broads in the after math
[Pro the Leader] The race you couldn't face, I'm chilling with Bootface the man with twelve faces Le' Ment Configuration, hooks rip the skin off a fucking red neck The rep kick connect to your mother fucking chin Dump a bucket of water on you and tie you to an electric fence Drown in your own blood, feed you your own shit (that's instinct) Mentally oblivious, your uncreative methods aint working Look in to my eyes fucker I'm serious I spent the past four years making music on my ghetto equipment It's only one percent of my potential Professional, Pro profile progressing over instrumentals, I emphasize on samples I'm going to be a success, ?I'm Omar Epps in the Stair Case nearly beating Remmy to death? Back for revenge, I'm convinced I'm gunna win Forever defend the underground and never return again...
[Road Block] American Poets is grimy alley men with a 40 of King Colbretty, ready Armed with a machete and frost folding Mic corroding, tongue battery acid I'm a hardcore bat unholy Thumbtack match, flaming 2x4's hit Mick Foley Mankind, bend my mind, limestone Old folk rock, RoadBlock barricade your passage wit a pack of savage canine My ?datess? fine, how's yours with castration? Give you cancer and chemotherapy at the same time with a beam of radiation Nomad glad to see Vlad the Impaler crusade wars, holy battle zones I'm your father like Vader MC's is Luke-warm and dirty like puke porn I like playboy, the clitoris is my play toy Bitches rain joy in massive amounts of fluid I'm glued to it until I bust my own Elmer I be teleporting hoes to the crib, you better helm her But Jim I'm just a doctor, she didn't want to give up the ass so Spock clocked her ?Stock proc'd her Proximo the second With a short sword that's wooden, eating monkey brains in the temple of doom like they was pudding As far as the game go, I'm in like Tony Gwen Bringing ill rhymes to the table as I watch my homies spin The cops they owe me ten, cause I've been dimed 100 Snitches watching my spine with hunches, so I inclined with punches So while you climb with plunges, they get fucked up and crumbled and buckled up Like the belt of champions, heavy weight division boxing My rhymes is nauseous toxins, deadly brain popping like furious lead I howl to the full moon and roam with the living dead