Akala - Westwood Freestyle(2008) lyrics

[Verse 1 - Akala] I set the times like Greenwich meridian Rhymes good for any terrain, like amphibians Mr Brazilian, blown to oblivion Tough guy snivelling when I start chiselling Raps on stone tablets like hieroglyphics is Writing can't quite define how my lyrics is Rhetorical, historical, metaphorical oracle Compare to me yo, your son ain't prodigal Impossible to you, to me its quite probable I am the one I feel it to my hair follicles So sure, never been a spitter that's so raw There just about digesting what I was doing in ‘04 So '08 your late, go get your mate Cuz, can't you see, can't you see I scraped the plate I speak truth your booth is a cinema You rap a little, I compose literature That's very separate like a sket in a celibate Intelligence or precedence, I'm a terrible terrorist Split second of hesitance will cost you your residence So what you think is, the top of what is Everest Compared to galaxies, that's when you challenge me Your reality is complete and utter fallacy So wrong no matter how you try to prolong I stroll on still studying stars like the Dogon I'm so gone, couldn't come back if I wanted to My honest view is the only thing I promise you Oh and, flow with the wisdom of old mans I don't do seconds like a watch with a broke hand Yo fam, this is second nature like another earth Must see me this year, like another hearse No tug, p**yhole, go grab another purse But please whatever you do, don't rap another verse You're not on my level negro please How can you talk to me when you don't even read While I, study degrees but attend no cla**es No profit, just don't rap about arses Like all of you pickneys, no matter who you pick me The HIV MC you can't live with me Nor go against me, flow to immense be I'm scoring no matter how strong your defence be I feel like it's a race but everybody's walking And I got 2 speeds, horses, the Porsches Of course it's the raw sh**, that hit 'em like a horse kick Forfeit, here's the flow tight as a corset, pause it Take a second to think proper You will come a cropper if you ramp with the topper topper! Dungargan, knock you out like yard rum Bredrin don't you that my style just can't done I know no other way, just can't stop ascending Just like you, just can't stop pretending Silly kids, ain't you sick of your silly fibs Really that scared just to be who you really is Your tasting American sh**, tongue like brown Talking like a tug when you're as soft as a night gown Couldn't even cut mustard so put the knife down You are not the king you're just posing with my crown You are not the king you're just posing with my crown [Verse 2] The saga begins sh** escalates so quickly Road so shift get your marrow clap quickly Pricks chat swiftly, while mandem attack sickly Just to think it's the same kid you stacked chips with Went to school with ‘em, bought your first tool with ‘em Now you're in the pool riddled with bullets it's not cool Trust don't live here, lust for the chips here To push a pluck sh**s here Kids will flip, yeah No discussing your life ain't worth nothing here Turn your bright lights to night lights for bluffing here Come on man I don't play with these kids You can't reason with a man with no reason to live What can you prove to a dude who thinks he already dead Move food with the kid but he already fed Everbody gat [?], back stabbing is black habit We ever stick together now, that will be black magic Instead we steady flipping, ready to stick the clip in Dickheads that get it twisted get lifted like a magician This is the road religion, we cold as a winter blizzard Blowing our little triggers and falling our little figures But, on the real cuz we dying inside Don't watch the screw face that we hiding behind Go to the box talk to the mandem with time 9 out of 10 say they wish they could have rewind It's why I can't stand theses grime kids talking ‘bout bussing Prats can't even scrap how the hell are you thuggin' sh** is serious talking about taking a life away We no k**ers but we play anyway Praying away, Stuck in the same fate Moving at 100 miles an hour but we stuck in the same place It's hell on earth and they shook they halfway crook They couldn't ramp, couldn't come where I look Couldn't read what I read, or see what I see Or go where I go, or be where I be Man ain't close to Akala, straight off the top harder Here with Tim Westwood man they can't touch it The flow is black Russian, yo Have blood rushing Man can't ramp with Akala it's nothing