This is a collab wit my wigga Ninja. My volume is too loud, but my mic is a piece of shit.lol
Im a rapper who writes on various topics and subjects Im deep and introspective but fuck I like lyricism too
Hi, this is ReFlEcTiOnS. I'm a young, hungry MC from the Chi. I'm trying to lead a new revolution in hip-hop. I'd like to say I can flip a track on any subject and still remain ill dropping technicals as well. Most of my songs on here are shit poor audio quality wise, since I have bad equipment.
Lyrics
And the glock go pop, when I rock yo spot, with sick rhymes...
cock so hot, then my cum's nickname is strich nine...
I rip spines, strangle people when packin-a'-fo'...
and then I throw, your spine in the river, just to get black to the flow...
I ain't closed minded, my brain ain't wrapped-in-a-turbin...
I keep my thoughts fresh, like the ass on a virgin...
I'm grabbin the earth and crackin the turf when...
subtractin the persian , collapsin and mergin the lands of latins and germans...
These rappers are cursin, fuck it, I laugh when I'm burstin...
so much multisyllable flows, the silliest hoes think Canibus birthed 'em..
Two crackers is hurtin, y'all now watch the twin towers attack...
You've been cowerin back, writin shit that takes six hours to rap...
wigga please, You can't run with ma crew, I need somethin to do...
so I fill ya ass with slugs til your stomache's a zoo...
What's it to you? I see a a kid'll , probably ask to bleed a little..
But I got a dime bitch, so why do I need a nickel...
Here's an easy riddle, who half man, half force of nature...
My verbal torture chamber , creates flames to score and bake ya'...
You're in mortal danger, I grab my coat and I'll smack ya ova niagra...
You couldn't be hard, if you ovadosed on viagra...
It's Ninjizzle and Crazizzle, comin back wit' a pistol..
mackin a pizzle, fo shizzle, my rappin's official..
Now Follow-the-leader, as I mesmorize all-of-the-readers...
Who call-me-a-beaker of hope when the world falls-to-the-reaper...
No matter how hollow-the-heater, it trashes-your-chest...
Nah, instead I hit yu in the back-of-the-neck, but don't feel it 'cause yu smoke crack-to-the-head...
I'm havin-respect, it's like there's some kind of trial-to-be-me...
When these niggaz would have trouble rappin with Juvenile-or-B.G....
So file-the-receipt, 'cause I just purchased-the-game....
I could shoot a third-in-your-brain, but I'd rather murder-your-dame and further-the-pain...
