7L - Grace of Gods lyrics

Hey hey what we gon' do is we gon' get the DJ To give us a few jigga jiggas So we can get this sh** on the road And get it started, know what I'm sayin? [Rise + (Esoteric)] Yo, rise, 7L, Esoteric, Demigods (1-2), Axis (I got this) What you want? [Verse 1: Esoteric] You pack chrome, I doubt it I rip out your frame and make no bones about it ES, shout it, my style slams dark My rhymes start to combine like dry humps and hand jobs You need a flame that's a blowout jack You get MJ on broadway and couldn't stage a come back I rap spicy like ??? While your twelve's collect dust like pcp fiends I see through teens like X-ray machines A smart dad, pick the kid's evil schemes (You know all these motherf**ers) My man will disgrace y'all When y'all threaten average in a fantasy baseball Who's gonna sign me? Underground rapper, got the game down pat like you in O'Reilly Ready to die like an airline jacker Crush your skull, give you a hairline fracture I got hotties on the back burna That won't go away like bodies on a flag burner (Hear you rhyme?) I'd rather people mime Your feeble mind got less lines than equal signs [Hook] "no doubt you don't know what it's about" "I don't mean to boast, but damn if I don't brag" "Let's get it on" "I'm not a biter, I'm a writer for myself and others" "no doubt, you don't know what it's about" "I don't mean to boast, but damn if I don't brag" "Every line that I recite, I consider it art" "Any things you do, I can tear it apart" [Verse 2: Rise] Ready before the sound checks, before the 'You next on's' A crew that's strong, mics that we use get bronze Is the rapper right or the critic, the fan, artist, the business, the clan That sorta sh** makes you want opinions, we give it, dig it If you get too deep for real when you rock And the attention levels drop when people look at they watch Weighing against money, on a balance scale, time flies Your mind's controlled by presidents that aren't even alive Old dogs learn new tricks, they could spit in my cla** I teach an old Pit to flip and saw a rapper in half The last rapper stop beefin' and they searched for the man Now they beefin' just to see who's our number one fan Compressed to the glance, people peep my world and enter The he's and she's of every species in placenta Heat rises, warm up your crib, playing in cold weather Your baby stopped cryin' and your plants grow better [Hook]