Spitamatic - Vordul Mega

Blow trees on spots with no d’s

Know these cops are so hungry to let the government

Gross g’s off us in penitentiaries

Frustrated the only way to bust is mentally

From ghettos and meddle

Stay bopping the instrumental

The cops is cock blockin in front of spots

We off top switching the pedals

Aliens get sick in the middle

Got caught in it

With a little bit of the 'ism

In the city of villains

Spastic crouching tigers and hidden dragons

Niggas’ll go spitamatic we flow spitamatic

For the head piece to get attracted

Burning red leaves to the cabbage

Learning dead?

niggas acting

We gonna get rapping

Till the streets cease the madness

Listening to the beat clapping and be happy stay so nappy

Poems that have to hold the gat piece

Just to get through

Feel like we gotta spit missiles

Just to get you to feel it in the physical

Reciprocate lyrical in fashions

Just to bash in your cranial cabinet

Metaphors

When words become hands to open doors

Open doors

Street journal

Put heat to your kernal and pop it

Everybody looking for profit

Im looking like a prophet

When the beats is pulsating

Most gracious

Niggas I roll with so satan

No playstation and no game

Thats the cereal?

scratched off no name

Plain killers stand by the freezer

With crews and dudes who scrooge like ebenezer

Pop bruise make you a believer

In vice we speed life hold dice roll with sativa

Wild style killer with dirt in the caesar

?

face with metallica to roll the fever

We make you a believer

Where we from fights for ice by the freezer

Spitamatics

Mic addicts

With drug habits

Life tragic

They mind find you in a casket

You trying to grind

They trying to lock you like a savage

Haze with the hashes

Its all mathmatic

Spitamatics from the high lands of manhatten

Get it pappen

Ninjas in the mix

Leave faces like «what happened?»

The night creatures

Either so streets clappin'

Noblemen on beats watching and just laughing

Gotta eat

The monsters reaction to the heat

To much on my girl crib hard to breathe

And can’t sleep feeling addicted to cold streets

But must stay away

Harassed everyday by the fucking police

So we move disorderly with pants hanging off our asses

Spitting acid

Ever since we was young matches

Never listening to what moms asked us

We rather be on the street

Quest for skunk sessions

That cave pump niggas chest in

So how you restin'

Ring around the rosy be deciever

Gotta get your rolly face holding open for holy chiba

Pop shots pop locks scream heater cry wolf

Whisper phoenix

Digest readers

Death in the rear view I hear few

True thoughts closer

In any hood

Like a newport poster

If I tell you again I told you once

And thats word to the chinamen who sold?

front

Without you and ari latifa?

Bout to set it off

On the reaper to buy sneakers

Sit by the speakers and write this

Make the?

deeper

Roll it up start again

Check my beeper

'matic spitting the verbs

Showing the culture

Im done flipping the bird Im throwing the vulture

Random thoughts

Find their home in dome

Stoned is the way of the poem

Spitamatic