Jake the Fury:
I am the broken shot that jams the glock
In the hand of a cop who shoots a black block
I am the explosion that scars him like Sloth
I am the short circuit that turns off the electroshock
A saint with a halo of smog
I am a piece of shit, a Ban Dog
I have nothing to do with hip-hop hop
As long as I'm evil for the musical authority
As long as I go to concerts and see the zeros rapping
Now I understand
I burn my hands with your record
it's like touching a cross for the antichrist
For you I'm too fast
If I've already stopped speaking before your ear hears the voice
I'm so quick to anticipate mine brain
To be twice the age of my twin
Bro, I sure have a verse that weighs, I'm a catch dog
I stun the crowds like the church.
I launch rhymes to explode
Against the nerd who learns rhymes by heart for the test
You can have the best sample,
The best production,
But you can't put Boy George making action films
I don't sell scams because
Included in my fee
I serve glasses of napalm dressed as a sommelier
Illuminated in the flow by mystical visions
Every time I touch the micro I get the stigmata
I reduce entire crowds of fans into a trance
His head spins twenty-four hours like Le Mans
The circulation slows down, the back trembles
I am the fucking virus that got into your system.
Rit (x2):
Coming for sabotage
Killer language
Brain immune to washing, lyrical poaching
We are assassins on the beats and the bass
Collapse if you go against my syntax
Il Guercio:
I broadcast from the city where it rains acid, gray
Icy wind like the look of the mister in the overcoat
I have transcendent verses that break your new trends transparent Fendi lenses
You hear newer rhymes than Johnny Lambs' blood
That is reciprocated every year when it is saturated with bamboo
I resist blows more than ceramic nostrils
I am the solarium that disgraces your plastic face
The subliminal porn sequence in the Christmas cartoon
Lethal frequency that damages your brain from your cell phone
An open wound
Like that of someone who wakes up without kidneys and spleen on a deserted beach
With Hunger in combination
The mixture of coke and stuff in the injection of the toffa who dies in the station
The clarification that you are not capable of the battle
/>I'm the fixed eleven on the rigged dice
I've been rhyming since the tsars put on the first Buffalos
Since they caught the first pedophile priest
My verse is a dose weighed to the Tanita
Drug of the future that has not yet been synthesized
Paolino brings the sonic war,
I take the shadow off the ground from the latest rappers
Chinese eye type brunette
Mc that makes you like MDMA I'll crash you like a dc9 caliber of my rap
Lamo with the bayonet mic
Your CD is full of pieces of shit like a truck
Il Guercio is the name of the guy who in one minute made it clear
That you're fucked, finished, when you rhyme I spit and bless the micro

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