Split Prophets - The Platoon lyrics

(Verse 1 – Bil Next) We get it cracking, with a healthy dose of what you're lacking Heavy sh**, he tried to lift my style and done your back in Full attacking, ? Little Jack Russell spitters, rip them up like paper wrapping Chain reaction, take out the first one Then watch the others brick and then start acting like they came for chatting Been a 100 so I may be slacking But I'm back upon the straight and narrow Put in work to make it happen (Verse 2 – Res One) I don't battle rap I battle rappers with a bag of wax Bringing the bangers and set the standards at How you couldn't stand the catch (?) Spitting for the spine attack (?) Mad mash, designer bra**, I'm fine got no time to chat (?) Gotta move, gotta make moves and mind the gaps Mind your chat, you might end up like Michael if you wind your chat Lipsticks, your dribbling ace based on why you rap (?) Tie your trap or try to find your d**h (?) You're not confined to that (Verse 3 - Blanka) A mash mechanic, never panic when getting things to work As we drop it hot like tapping hash rocks and it flips and burns The world goes though so religion seems a bit absurd I'll finish in a hearse so why the f** would I sing hymns in church Eating tins of worms, with herbs and some goose eggs f** fruit, I sip juice that looks more purple than bruised flesh Spit tight like noose necks and split tights with two skets Don't do bets, dumber than a fist fight with booze breath (Verse 4 - Two Tungs ) It's dubious the way that we manoeuvring We ain't new to this and getting slewed is nothing new to dem I can be a nice guy or a c*nt, depending on the mood I'm in But most times I'm a f**ing hooligan These rappers love me, they tried to copy So I ain't sorry about what I've gotta do to ‘em Honestly, f** an apology These wannabes bother me Need to properly study the methodology Before they try to get to where we got to be These little ba*tards need to try a little harder Me sharpen up my razors til they're sharper than a barbers Darth Vader, I'm your father (Verse 5 – Flying Monk) Yo, check it Its (…?) flying high with the bars I spit I take energy from the moon and stars and then I harness it You can find me on some karma tip sat back (….?) Like allow all the name games, I don't wanna part in it Pardon me, I'm a target pricks With a load of this lava spit I'm laughing at your party tricks Partly because your bars are sh** Hardy-har my harvest is eight straight and demolish scripts (?) I'm on this sh**, like an opportunist I'm an optimist (Verse 6 - Paro) I'm still deep under the influence That mad doctor using verses like surgical instruments I drop it like lacerated ligaments My deliverance is known to cause mental disfigurements And triggers many straight happenings and unexplainable incidents Spontaneous combustion is just a product of my diligence That sh**s no coincidence that Split Prophets militant Relentless using beats as my stimulants (Verse 7 - Upfront) Unsettle rappers when I speak phrases The lean strange kid (?) I hold it down better than ever and never seek status f** being famous, it's not about that I make music for other reasons and seeing pounds stack Heavy when I'm out tracks Leave clowns flat, you'll get eaten when I open my mouth ‘Cause my sounds fat How's that, like a ball with no air in I doubt you'll bounce back Pronounced dead at the scene like a drowned rat (Verse 8 – Datkid) Yo It's Brissy nitty City where my gang commutes In the jungle dodging obstacles like Crash Bandicoot Buss a show, bang the loot Spend it on smoking up a strange new brand of fruit Exhale through the gappy tooth It's Matty who looking sketchy there, with an edgy stare ‘Bout to get the Blains blowing everywhere f**ing tank, puffing dank Until the bouncers drag me out because it stank I go out and catch the clap whilst you buss a wa*k