Mortar - The End lyrics

[Intro] Captain, Is It Over? It hasn't even started... [Verse 1: Graphic] It's over like dose, so potent Before we noticed, your thrones are comatose The defining moment, opened with a toast To the d**h of an art, but only as you know Show focus like a microscope They choke the homeless, it might decide the vote Awoke a crew, with a new hope Heard by many, but most blow smoke You and anyone can try, but I, like wild pities have eyes for the throat Life's a joke I'm still waiting for a punchline, It's crunch-time, Don't rely on my flow To help you, so who's down for the challenge Let's see who can use the dope intricacies when writing patterns No Bitin', but if that's what it takes to elevate style then let's get it crackin' I'll walk away with a smile Knowing McBride has done his part So spit smart or step aside wait a while I don't gloat But you couldn't cope Let alone recite what happened, time lapses in a flash Ya domes closed shut, our purpose on earth is captured by fear My brain's a sponge soak up the atmosphere [Verse 2: Tomahawk] I stand on the mountaintop inside myself And embrace every emotion that I have felt I welcome love, use my anger, though I'm sadder than the average Sith I know it well My own personal hell I smoulder out All inside is red and black and that's why my eyes are brown And that's why I say I so often I'm so self absorbed my true names been forgotten I'm Tomahawk... All I do is spit, therefore I can't and don't want to talk I've forgotten all But the verses I pile up All I see is silhouettes against a black curtain of fire You'll learn in a cypher my influence You'll either crumble to ashes or spit the hypest rhyme in music I'm a loose lipped cannon on Bundy If you see me smile it's because you f*ggots are funny Actually you make me sick like someone razored my tummy The hounds are out on a battle chases like Gully We get the crowd on some bloody hell sh** The whole pack howls, you son of a b**h We deface your favorite f*g and tell them their queer They talk it up but s** dick like American Beer We're veterans here but we're barely thirty Your ain't worthy like James, Clandestien wears the Gurnsey [Verse 3: Mortar] A journey begins, a saga at it's end Dopeness evoked with the stroke of a pen A new hope, an empire in ascendance Return with a menace, clone revenge in every sentence Over and Over, the clan's relentless Charged with holding heat like repeat offenders My mic's hot, lips spit third degree Noxious toxins, my writtens liquid mercury My similes spit with ease better yours If never Mortar speak I breeze on beats and semaphore Rhetoric raw, master marksman First to burst your bubble, at trouble the last laughin' Crafting speech, intricately woven patterns Most don't believe till it's simply spoken at them Lynched with the mic cord, lyrically chokin' f*ggots My strike force so quick, kids didn't know what happened Combatants batting down you hatches Cats think they've got it locked but can't figure out the latches Your simplistic when scriptin' in a sentence Subplot forgot, lets skip to the endin' Your books closed, my chapters just started Captured the dopest prose, flow between the margins Posing the question which asks Which crew do you know which mastered witch craft