Imagine this as the blowout at the end of the concert, with eight rappers, a DJ, and probably some folks from the crowd all onstage getting crazy. The last track, then, is like the encore.
lyrics
TOM SWIFTY:
I'm an alien scientist, blowing rails in violent,
Antisocial, sociopathic, criminal environments
No rest for the wicked, but your chest can get split, kid,
If ya step to me mean, I'm zestfully clean, ya nitwit!
Meticulously delivering every insane syllable I can conceive
In order to achieve the sight of you and your kinfolk quivering
Inhibiting idiots from spreading illegitimate opinions
As news till the distinction between truth and fiction makes no difference.
Flows babblin, roads traveled in decades, tryna get paid, don't worry,
It's a loaded javelin toss, gotta handle the cost, grab your nest-egg and scurry
By the time you realize you been blinded by the shine of too many good times,
You've already signed away your life on the bottom line of the document of your demise.
TRUTH MAZE:
Loud pack neo flow
My anarchy poetry
Rapture rocks the whole geo
Captain Planet Silver surfer of the circuitry
Stainless steel soliloquy
Spitter of sharp cutlery
Man, I'm a real emcee
Cook up the culture
As if my art was the culinary
Yes, Chef Truth Maze Ski
Hits you with mental stencils
Inspired by Banksy
ORIKAL UNO:
God number last name, shatterin' your glass brain
ORIKAL UNO and I does the damn thing
Mad style and pizzazz, left a burner on my last train
Dipped out quick, and made a cop pull a hamstring
Inner city street lights got me feelin' right
Soakin' up the sights, while I'm rollin' the dice
Never sell my soul; I keep my soul in the mic
Take flight; getting higher with the more that I write (Alright)
SON OV SAM:
Son oV Samuel
The animal
Flannel wearing intangible
Hannibal mind mechanical
Banana clips in ya man'll blow
I write the songs something like Barry Manilow
You sang along like karaoke when men elope
Look I'm on a T. Swift song
Telling T. Swift blond
She better have that T swift gone
Quick to pitch and hit the skinny bitch with a clean Teflon
And look at T. Swift
Like "How you left the beat left on?"
CAPACITI:
Capaciti crafting a masterpiece
After these bars heads nod bouncin like a trampoline park
Adrenaline sparked my medicine it gets turned on
Light bulb like Edison I invented a thought
Intending to drop a paragraph a pterodactyl
No careless acts when I rap I tear it apart
In every sentence said not alone in my head
I spit these verses so you can remember me when I'm dead!
(That's art!)
KATANA DA DON:
I kill bitches
When I spill sickness
I'm Viola Davis
Dirty nurse with pill switches
How I keep losin my patience
All u ever do is say shit
I'm movin thru the matrix
Me and my Hecatomb assailants
Aint no failin just smooth sailin
Or I'm impaling
Never waitin to exhale shit
Straight annihilation
So u can hold this L bitch
Tales crypt
Melt scripts
Selfish with who I tell shit
Buildin
Stack to the ceilin
You jealous gettin yo nails did
DISPUTEONE:
Last call for alcohol and a free rhyme
In under a minute I can get in it with my free time
Freeze
And I ain't talkin a dance step
For automatic lyrics that I spit like a bomb threat
They far from original with gimmicky concepts
And hardly advanced when it comes to the raw shit
We ain't the ones you wanna test in a cipher
Hecatomb, let it be known: off of the dome viper
DANIELLE CHERI:
The sun tastes sour today
Single eye squinting
Couple of kids grinning
As I slip away
I never remember a word you say
When you talk like that
Sarcasm dripping from your lips
Disguised as something sweet
Your tongue tastes sour today
Go ahead
Grin
Grin again while I slip away
Ain’t nothin new about it lately
TOM SWIFTY:
The greatest things I've ever done are yet to come
Shout-out to the old crew, DRS, I'm set to stun
And I'll drink some wine with ya
All these people here together'd make a fine picture
Freestyle, speak rhymes, it's a divine ritual
Even if it never made none of us a dime richer,
I'd still be the baddest up in this shit like Gaston
I rip through every verse like it's my first or it's my last one
I'm gone!
Born in Springfield, Illinois, and raised in the southern Midwest of Missouri, Ezra Stead became Tom Swifty in Minneapolis
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