Roc Marciano - Half Dead lyrics

[Verse 1:Apathy] Ayyo I'm flyer than Airwolf mean as a Werewolf The automatic Mac-10 in operation wolf I spin a flesh blood shatter spinal columns Spleen splitters sh** a rapper out Ill as Jason Bourne when I'm blackin' out Blast 'em outta this stratosphere Ap is here better make some cash appear Freddy Krueger music rap slash ya ear So don't go to sleep I'm rippin' out the souls of victims Black hole flow swallow whole solar systems Getaway car driver I learned from pole position Gettin' closer to God but follow no religion Poems written with precision >bones flickin' force??< Shiftin' as quick as a Porsche with Delorean doors The travel back in the past like Marty McFly My raps are like d** to keep the audience high Yo I batter bodies badly with batteries in my beanie Be bugging and bludgeon any ba*tard that say he beat me Beneath me is a dungeon with dragons and executioners Verses are scourges that'll infect the whole universe Expect lots of funerals, bodies with Rigormortis Metamorphosis, I'll put you in the ocean deep as porpoises [Refrain: Planet Asia] We got guns to leave you with a half head To the money the math's lead You on your last leg Nothing moving but cash, bread No money down, you half dead Half dead [Verse 2: Roc Marciano] Late night, in the telly slinging bagged up Turn crack to cash, like ‘Abracadabra' Pearl white ‘Lac, macs hang plasmas Hoes obey pastors, like slave masters Tre-eight blaster, thousand dollar pack pa**er Fiends looking like spacecrafts, pa**ed ya That's the sig-nature, slim in stature Smoked out, foaming at the mouth like a non-factor Real hoes hold white for us n***a, we hot boys - explains why Allah put this ice on us Cool ‘em off, give ‘em two for the snort What you thought would give play on Source You pay the whole course Before them four-fours, shoot up doors Shots at ya Yukon, Rocket just like a newborn Powerful poems, put poems on valuable homes While them addicts looking blown, like a trombone Examine a man with stamina And where I'm from you either flip grams or be a janitor [Refrain] [Verse 3: Planet Asia] Pekoe pirate, hitman for hire, ayah Money over boppers, you're singing to the choir I am the flyest, wittiest, high, sadddiest Intertwined with the crime committee The grittiest, hideous henchman Central Valley, rally ‘round a verse This is d**, those who need plugs Welcome to the crack convention Shell-toe Adidas don, Sam Smith-ing True grizzly on a land mission I drop j**els to make the fans listen Pop tools at your mans dissin' Knock noodles out ya can of spinach Planet is vintage Dirty birds don't get chose Only the handlers that's handlin' business If I ruled the world, there'd be no eighty-fivers The swine dining, spook worshipers would know the science The mic's in my hand, the moment is mines now The shine now, lil' ma is all on my line now My grind's style is serious, period plus It ain't another in your area that's touching this look My aura is right, my team is solid and worthy I knew early they didn't teach getting cream in college I'm burning, finer leafs of spliffs, laced in Bally shags Might catch me in South Beach, hopping out a Jag When it comes to the paper no time for lollygagging After this, might have to give your chick the mighty Magnum