Warfare Nine Leaves

[Verse 1: Isaac Pineda]
About a hundred and seventy five horses
Take a look at me
I don’t give a fuck
I still move rapidly
The size of a tanker filled with gasoline
You cock snackers don’t understand my lethal rappery
I’m getting sick of you jokers
Y'all niggas leaving the deck
I’m pulling cards like its Russian roulette
I’m pulling triggers ‘till there’s nothing else left
I’m pulling triggers ‘till your neck is a mess
And that smile is on top of your desk
I come across with a three piece blazer
Looking stunning like a motherfucking taser
Holding erasers
Watch the bullets chase ya
Do me a favor
Don’t run ‘cause I don’t wanna shake what your momma gave ya
I’ll take your work and pitch what your boss baked up
Never moved a brick but I push a case of
Your body face up
Cold and wearing make up

[Verse 2: Chad McCarthy]
Set up a frontline
Engage to create a punch line
I eat raps, spit wack *spit* cats out at lunchtime
And if the sun shine till tomorrow
Explode hollow tips at foe follow grip mics and blow halogen lights
At precise points to point press your eyes
Warpaint to paint pictures like pagan’s paint paintings
Stimulate great simulating weight when I’m spraying
I’ve seen sights of mics how you like that?
Holographic data just retype that
After the war bring the beats and mics back
As I recite raps with my staff in my right hand to knight tracks
Exact syntax of synth slaps react sick twisted
Your body is blood-stained defending war grounds
Where I left all my foes slain
And if the rain cleared the fog then I’ll follow the storm
See you at the next rhyme when hip hop is reborn (yo-yo-yo-yo)