Текст песни Critical Beatdown

Well, I'm the equalizer, known to be graphic

I clear static, breakin' up traffic, move, while I enter the groove

I'm on top and happy to prove, to whack MC's

Who claim to be better than me, no way

I'm frankly, more clever than all of you, each and every one

My son, pay close attention, I take your brain to another dimension

Hold it, mold it, shape it, you got a knife, yes, I wanna scrape it

Up and down, sideways, any way, I can be rude to you

But I'll rap and be crude to you and eat up

Toy ducks I beat up, I am the oven, your brains I wanna heat up

Mega, supersonic degrees

I come around, roastin' MC's with fire

To burn the toy, liar raw meat, turn the flame higher

Cook it like a fish, I'll hook it for any beat

It's time that I took it right, correctly to the top

With the rhythm and as your head, bop

I'm hype, for the critical beat down

I'm attacking them, my job is stacking them

For every rapper, must I be smacking them once, or twice in the face

With rough beats, producin' the bass that blow out

'Cause power to go out

Inner spark, I'm ready to blow out like this, altitude level

Reachin' forth, stompin' every devil in sight

You might just wanna bite

My illusions, mental confusions

You're a mark, skulls, I've been abusin'

Losin' any rapper who follow meUltramagnetic MC's - Critical Beatdown - http://ru.motolyrics.com/ultramagnetic-mcs/critical-beatdown-lyrics.html

Your girl loves me, now, she wanna swallow me

Back up, move on to the rear

When I'm on the stage, should be clear speakin', goin' ear to ear

Places far, ducks would appear for the countdown

So you wait to rhyme and twist, stuttering, uttering

Parkay, margarine, everything butter and another thing

You shoulda been a Muppet, a toy boy, a fake scream puppet

I'm takin' titles and punks butter up it to me

Said, gee on the mic, and I'm hype for the critical beat down

Here's the K, combined the double O, swing in the L, I'm ready to go

As Keith, Rap, General Chief Executive plus exquisite

Mandatory, capital statements, I am the teacher

Preaching what makes sense

Class, you wasn't able to pass, for any germ or lice who come last

I'm boric, high computing acid

Get off the mic and won't you please pass it to me, for a one two check

Give me a pound and lots of respect

No hands, you disappointing my fans, you on reverb

And talking to cans, hello, how are you doing?

I come to wreck, and parties I'll ruin with rhymes, pumpin' up smoke

Diesel advances, makin' them choke and cough up

The hard headed, I'll soften, spongee, then after that, drink

Roll the assess, the Buddha with the ganji

Puff up, while I make tough stuff up

I'm Kool Keith, cold rippin' MC's

I'm hype for the critical beat down