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Old 06-10-2008, 11:18 PM   #282
SHEEPISH LORD OF CHAOS
AKA THE PROTO-CHAOS
 
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SHEEPISH LORD OF CHAOS Iron Lungs (Fists of Legend)SHEEPISH LORD OF CHAOS Iron Lungs (Fists of Legend)SHEEPISH LORD OF CHAOS Iron Lungs (Fists of Legend)SHEEPISH LORD OF CHAOS Iron Lungs (Fists of Legend)SHEEPISH LORD OF CHAOS Iron Lungs (Fists of Legend)SHEEPISH LORD OF CHAOS Iron Lungs (Fists of Legend)SHEEPISH LORD OF CHAOS Iron Lungs (Fists of Legend)SHEEPISH LORD OF CHAOS Iron Lungs (Fists of Legend)SHEEPISH LORD OF CHAOS Iron Lungs (Fists of Legend)SHEEPISH LORD OF CHAOS Iron Lungs (Fists of Legend)SHEEPISH LORD OF CHAOS Iron Lungs (Fists of Legend)
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Itís the vocal lyrical iron monger
Flow conjurer rhyme absconder/
You canít even ponder the lines Iím writing down
Iron out cha lungs and leave your brain chomped and crunched up/
Open your mind wit surgical prongs
Rhyme so long your jaw will snap from hanging so much/
Candy coat cha defense with limited mobility and no opportunity
While my offense scopes out cha walk through like New England Patriots do/
Now my flow caught cha just like the flu
Now emcees are turning blue from the way I rhyme it like it was something new/
Whether Iím repping from Cuse yaíll still arenít used to our slanguage
Matter of fact I speak English so potent they think itís binary by how complex it is/
Spit for the kids, the wiz you finna marry itís get pretty scary
Old fashion flows are ultramagetic wit the styles that be kinetic/
Yíall cook your records up as quick as stir fry vegetables
With no words to why so I approach my engineers to shift into gear/
I jot down a verse fast as a javelin going in the Olympics
Now you try sprinting against a lyricist wit mind quick as two Pentium chips in it/
Negro please this ainít no gimmick my shit has no limits
Like master p and his no limit chains/
Take my game very seriously lyrically
you still are not seeing me like the blind/
Whenever Iím sharp as a diamond or
Coming off the mound pitching curve balls at yíall/
Striking you out fast as tornados and cyclones approach your home
Grip tight as python singing more songs than riddles that be on Monty Python/
Hello, hello are the lights on up in there
itís cold when I have bring the musket here/
I feel like an execution when Iím up in the booth
presenting you nothing but truth/
I doubt you can recoup the bars...
I prove attempting to reboot cha mainframe/
When Iím the propane that burnt down your studioís mainframe,
oops I guess youíre out the game/
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Last edited by SHEEPISH LORD OF CHAOS; 06-10-2008 at 11:25 PM.
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