Street Massacre Outerspace (Duo) (Ft. Royce Da 5'9")

[Scratches]
Outerspace, these corny muthafuckas puttin' pop singles that sound like
5’9”, guarantee solid, no man could put a dent in this

[Verse 1: Crypt the Warchild]
This ain’t no sing along music for you to ride up on
This here is street massacre, music to dump on
These lines are sharp, hollow head'll splatter your abdomen
You sick to your stomach, wondering what is happening
Marksman specialist to keep your regiment vanishing
Full metal jacket devious when it's crashing in
Platinum metal this, [?]
151 rolled up, we keep 'em panicking
You in the wrong district, claiming you all misfit
You never toss biscuits, you with the Lord, snitching
I say you all bitching, you up in God's kitchen
Big flame, burn off your face then leave the balls dripping
You all squad victim, up in the dark prison
And you done lost vision, I'm at the bar drinking
You ain't at all spitting close to curtain
This is Illadelph to Rock City
Death is certain

[Hook & Scratches]
You know we rock this, yeah we got this
From Illadelph to Rock City with the hotness
You know it's on and popping
Once we get to popping
We air 'em out, no doubt
Kwest get to chopping