L.I.F.E. Long - Saki lyrics

[Intro: Akrobatik] They came from nowhere. They were MCs. They was DJs. They was graff writers. They was hip hop [Verse 1: Akrobatik] Yo, whether it's production, mic ripping, rocking cuts, or mixing If this sh** is broke, then Akrobatik's for the fixing Cats is lazy like twisting weed with seeds and sticks in Once the beat's kicks in, you know the top kicks in (What?) But I ain't wearing nobody's suit on Draft Day Catch me in some Timbs as I stomp through the pathway And when you hit me with the jersey (Say what?) Make sure it says, “Akrobatik, MC Number One,” ‘cause I'm worthy (What? What? What?) Yo, I rip the mic absurdly, son My existence is a worldly one—I'm cosmopolitan Reach inside your wallets and support the cause Of these rebels without a pause whose lyrics crack jaws Step back, pause, an*lyze the scene No verbal drop kicks at multi-level optics—that's keen Glaring through any transparent scheme without an x-ray Enlighten entire nations, do it again the next day My text play an integral part of your awakening Shaking in your lungs ‘cause y'all just a bunch of pseudo thugs So while you do your d** that make you believe you hard I'll rip mics with squads that represent God (What?) [Interlude 1: L.I.F.E. Long] Haha! Saki, L.I.F.E. Long, Breez Evahflowin', Akrobatik Detonate that like, “Yo. Check it. Yo. (Haha). Yo. (Haha). Yo. Yo [Verse 2: L.I.F.E. Long] This queen's Buddha merchant walks with talking monkey crane steps On Detonator Recs. Make my way on Force through air—similar to my man based in [?] Beats us on. Head chop, tote, choke, then bath through smoke clouds This studio bong fires I'll be the wick to your bomb, that explosive live wire Stronghold, Akrobatik, [we a chi bond?]. I brought the urn, [?] We from NY to the B-oston city L.I.F.E. Long, Breez Evahflowin' clutching chromes with a five-handed fisticuff grip (Haha. Stronghold) Sound off, echo across globes [to solicit the hit?] Crank this rap to crank levels to increase the head bop Use fingertips to adjust Static's musical renditions of hip hop We stay on our job, battle before dodging weak blows Survive alone off the flesh of foes. “Hok2” words out My [?] weave and leaving cats stuck, swinging nunchucks The slim samurai releases throwing stars and flames At accurate range at your stage Shutting down your sound [?] in Bean Town [Interlude 2: Breez Evahflowin'] I think they know what we mean now. Huh. “So, what would you like with that? Some Saki?” Yes. It is good for my head. It will make me feel good. Pa** that sh** [Verse 3: Breez Evahflowin'] I'm afraid so He's back again—rappers, lay low Like I tackled they toe, flipped they frame ‘round Ill cats. None spat the same sound I came to town through the harbor (What?), astounded by the drama I seen Either color. I'm the surface of fiends This unclean, uncut—what?!? As if I ain't dipping my stash I got this bad beat whipping my a** Presented with mad rhythm and cla** So pa** the seamstress site When it comes to dropping lines, this tight—aight? Light the first dutch Spit at your chest, watch it go burst, bust Then pull at your heart like thoughts of your first crush It's us against you, surface dweller Strike your peanut with the trident of the submariner The prince of the sea Since I'mma be on the scene For a minute ‘til this rap sh** finish Stronghold in the Lord's most beautiful image. Scrimmages s** Set it up for just show, dodo Step to super n***as like Lobo Every show we bless We got the Stronghold—woah!—or strong O.B.S You know me as the B, the R, the E, the E, the Z and [Outro: Breez Evahflowin'] Dedicated to my brother L.I.F.E. Long. Yes. Because now my head feels good. And I will continue to rock... until...