Anthrolyricology - Ill Legitimate (feat. Supa Nova)

Yo, It's Anthro
Bout to rock it like this
Ripping out this paper bag just to make an omelet
Breaking all these eggs. Stain it red, until I've taken office
Archetypal. Tower as high as Eiffel
Empowered and downright spiteful. My mic could disarm a rifle
Pull the whole color spectrum outta BLAQ and white and paint it vivid
Not for business. In it for more than just to make a living
Pay the difference. Yours, mine and his is not the same commitment
I'm on a terrible path and want them all to witness. Greatness by force
Raising your thoughts passed the limit
You could feel it vibrate through your heart
Mannequins get knocked over, quick. No hesitation
And make them vomit off of this eloquent presentation
Let it ring! You could call it unscrewed music
If it don't tickle your fancy, call it "FUCK YOU!" music
At war with the enemy, you bet it's a threat
Surpass law. Ill-Legitimate, we settle the debt!

We Ill Legitimate
We Ill Legitimate
We Ill Legitimate
Spill it on your brain!

Coming up on the final, I hope your studies were diligent
I hope you recognize the art should make you a militant
Our style on the rhythm should only threaten the impotent
Some boombap for y'all, prove that our ill is legitimate
Prove my will ain't malevolent by gunning you down
That's a simple metaphor, I've never purchased a round
I know what I'm meant for, at least I hope that I know
I hope we drop our dope and grow to the toast of the show
Most don't really know, it takes a fire in the pit of your gut
If you only rhyme for hire, you should be giving it up
Otherwise you take your mic and you organize a mob
If we utilize our minds, pulverize better than bombs
Take my fury out the furnace to hammer out a pen
If you don't have it, get it, fuck commandment number ten
Be legitimately ill, and you'll terrify the village
Yeah I killed you bitch, but that don't make me the villain
This is lyric anthropology, we spit historical texts
Check the fourth dimension, we only seeing what's left
Whatever record's next, we voices of the present tense
It's BLAQKNOIZ with the heft, godly but not heaven-sent

We Ill Legitimate
We Ill Legitimate
We Ill Legitimate
Children of the game! (Supe!)

Thank you SOUL.DOPE. for a track so dope
When I'm through, the listeners will be looking for they nose
On that note, I'm as fly as a boat, high as a moat (wait that don't make sense)
With a suspended Rap license, looking to get revoked (that do)
I'm a ghost, I transform into smoke
Lets you inhale, while I intrude your throat, choke choke
You should watch for the man in the cloak, shattering thrust from a dagger
Directly into an actor who I decide's not a factor, in fact, it's just a cancer
I think I'm the real Richard Pryor, you here to Jo Jo Dancer
I rolled in with a trunk full of funk, now get your hands up
Where my smokers in the place? Break it down, and burn them grams up
All the naysayers? Please leave the building and close your clams up (shhhhh)
My flow fuck with you like watching Muslims eat a ham lunch
With extra bacon, sitting across from a Caucasian
And before his first bite, he thanking Jesus for his Graces (what the fuck?)
Yeah, that look, that just came across your faces
That's the one I'm searching for with every Metaphor
I'll take your favorite rapper's soul, that's just to become Immortal (Immortal)
Doctor Strange, I don't step in the booth, I jump through a portal (through a portal!)
Nova, bunch of Scotty, the shit, a port-o-potty I should get high
And record an album in one night, that's like, beating up twelve niggas in one fight
Emerging without a scratch, bruise, knot, or a bite (how?)
Mark for that matter, word to BLAQKNOIZ, we high off the Dark Matter
What others shoot your ass to the atmosphere faster?
Than the speed of light, I always say what I mean like I can't read or write
Give your bitch hot rod, minus the gleaming pipes
Got that dope for the hustlers and the fiends alike
Got bars harder than yours, didn't mean to type
Better bring the yellow tape, and the CSI, BLAQKNOIZ turn the day to night
(That's cold) Yeah, Dope boy, I'll lace these niggas
The police gon' break they chalk tryn'a trace these niggas
Oooh, Supe, yeah, yeah, yeah

We Ill Legitimate (we what?)
We Ill Legitimate (we what?)
We Ill Legitimate (so what?)
And everytime expect flame, bitch!

That's right
BLAQKNOIZ
Two Thousand Eighteen
Aimed at your third eye
So keep your shit open

Written by:
Erik Menendez, Jack Mabie, Scotty Logan

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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