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🤬 the Recordion 2 (Mood Muzik 🤬 )

Sharoyceantwan Members Posts: 48
edited August 2010 in Roc Tha Mic
This is a demo of the epic sequel to my Recordion series

I recorded it this morning

its my Mood Muzik 🤬

this one is produced by John Qwest


Sharoyce jackin 4 beats

And coverin the classics

The blow so butter

That they cover it in plastic

My substance make em cosign

The government like adlibs

My vintage spits akin to half havoc

In his prime

I’m a Jekyll and a half bastard

Mastering the lines

Painting every millisecond

Snapshot to the blind

A couple screws dancing on the floor

Have I lost my mind-

Am I fine wine or something pure

Preserve her in her innocent 🤬

I 🤬 the corpse

To revitalize the five mics

Pumpin from the source

My high horse is now a Porsche

Its sleepy hollow headed

So that I can see the sunset

Snares keep the drums wet

Drop on the beat

Tell the listeners I aint done yet

Stupid headbanger

To my whip

This is trunk sex

Cop Sirens make me see

My whole life flashin


Heaven fields of all white Jasmins

Subjects that I choose

To write are hell when I speak em

To the mole people this braille

For the e drum

🤬 the Recordi’s

Like the old tax refund

You claim 40 babies

You’d be livin gravy./

Studio I bought from

Unemployment just to do it

Now I’m pennin scripts

of misconstrued mood music/

I’m a slow thinking genius

🤬 - who stupid?

Dude’s silly

I’d 🤬 you if I tried to be witty

I want the finest ink

To etch it out on my skin

like the bible

Stature of graffiti on the ifle

If I ever try suicide

he’s beyond a rifle-

Take my sins away

Thoughts of the new

Earnest Hemmingway

I sing to these Joes- no Emanny

Who understand me-

I’m kickin these flows- its foldin panties

🤬 , easy

You carbon copy Wayne’s- a lil Weezy

When you speakin it-

So I spit the game a lil freebie

It’s the 🤬 boy

Green soldiers- loaded toys

Even in the summer

He just leave the coldest void

Within a 🤬 heart

Throwin up cold in winter farts

Come and see me on the best day

Sweeper gets yo chest caved

🤬 poppin 🤬

The Ruger screamin at the next wave

Public E to people

With best Flav!


Ring these veterans out-they need to dry

I’m the Sol Badguy

I let my pistol heat the sky

Royce know the flow is a blessing

They prey for the rain

I whet they appetite w/ rhetorical questions

Emaculate conception from

The tongue

I aint snowballin-

But they savorin the sample of

The young

I’m a gatlin on the run

Arm leg leg

hollow tip

I second nature spit

w/ breathin oxygen

The booth is therupuetic to my soul

I try to give a 🤬 every bar I own

every time I’m on./

I’m on- etched on the block


You cant see me when I’m focused on the guap

Word is bond/

I’m a 🤬 chiba chemney-

Herb is drawn for the verbal onslaught


Once the 🤬 bomb drop-

A different type of artist

Got my arms locked

Meant for seekin out the target

Make it five alarm hot

I’m so stand up with it

I’m givin yall the realer

Strong as joe

No content coffee filters

I’m sickening as withering health

🤬 callin me the black plague

I sixteen a 🤬 to death

🤬 my presence makesa 🤬 scream

Ignorant breathe

They don’t understand life after death

I’m a Raven

With the grim reaper’s touch

I be murderin prenatal

And I’m killin that ass

Soin further up the 🤬

🤬 know they future cuz its

Laid out on the table

I can make yo label

Play the hand that rocks the cradle

I know that yo entourage

Is tapin w/ the cables-

Out informer

Tryna get the truth from sojourner

🤬 morbid

I swear 4 🤬

The rap game borin

I don’t bested all the 🤬 ’s out the orbit