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Track : Torsion Fields

Artist : The UnderGods

Album : In Gods We Trust, Crush Microphones To Dust

Torsion Fields by The UnderGods from album In Gods We Trust, Crush Microphones To Dust

Duration : 0 minutes & 0 seconds.

Listener : 100 peoples.

Played : 218 times and counting.

Let me see ya hands
We network power moves
Keith Murray, Canibus
Don't make your gun go click, click boom
Create a whole genre
The world ain't safe, there's no tomorrow
Nigga, this is 'Torsion Field'
Attack the jugular, overkill
Keith Murray and Canibus, what's the meaning?
The hardcore niggas in the streets is fiending
Make you play hide and go seek with your demons
Ranting, raving, hollering, screaming
Keith Murray, LOD, oh my god
Keith Murray, Canibus, so damn hard
We make them reminisce over you Undergods
You can meet you maker, step into my face and you is a faker
Hater, I'll see you later, I'll put you in an incubator
You'll be dead and me and Canibus will be in Jamaica
In Jamaica, guns shots up on ya
Come in like a big pussy, don't you, where I'm gon' dump ya
Expert flow Germaine, broad head, four-hundred grain
I was entertained, I saw a hundred slain
Deranged finder ranger reminder, paint the target
Walk up to your forehead and paint across it
Revisit that, give me a minute to re-edit the rap
Fuck that, I'll put my fist in your trap
Nigga wanna spit, we spat, that's that
What the fuck you looking back for it's the last lap
Got me in a hassle, nigga acting like he wanna wrestle
Smack DVD gun battle
Torsion Field twist steel blow the air back off wheel
You are dragged from the car and killed
Ski mask face, no trace, rap sound like rape
We gesticulate like apes on mixtapes
This high fidelity, fuck what they telling me
No body address the beat like Canibus and Keith Murray
"Raw to the floor, raw like 'Reservoir Dogs'"
Undergods coming with that yes, yes, y'all
Ayo, the Burnout Brothers, we the truth
I spit that shit to make me run out the booth
I got to say peace to my uncle Snoop
We smoke chronic leaves into a poof
And everybody knows we some lyrical fools
When they guess the metaphors they be like, ooh
Me and Canibus can go for days
And linger in the mind like displaced rage
We make that hardcore tailor made
That make niggas put your face on the front page
You motherfuckers, you can't compete
You know you don't wanna go man for man, power on the streets
It's Bis and Keith, yeah, bring it on
Bring it on, bring it on, bring it on
Ha, yeah, we set fire to the world
And everybody got to resort to the beach, ha
Yo, what you gonna do when we trap you on the sand? Ha
It's the grandsons of the Son of Man
Of the sickest sickest, sickest son of Sam
Shout out to Killah Priest
And them hardcore niggas that run the streets
Yo shout out to my man Mental, shout out to

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