Styles Of Beyond - Playing With Fire lyrics

[Verse 1: Tak] Stand back, put the picture my frame The handcraft of a master, the flicker, the flame That sell three madman Megadef LP Monster mash, prop for what? From S.O.B Chop the Honeycomb...what would I be without wax? Just another empty battery shell in the pack String on the puppet, laughin', claimin' I'm all of that When I know in fact, everything you claim is all crap [Verse 2: Ryu] Yo, got the fuse lit, keepin' it movin', so Freakin' abusive, people are pukin', so Sick of the music, s**in' the fumes in So don't get it confused, I'm not you, stupid Hundred-proof booze in the back, all tipsy Bring two clips, I'm clappin' all sixty Swing through quick and bust if one's empty Your chances of leavin' the club: fifty/fifty [Verse 3: Apathy] Wanna f** around with Hell's recruits? I'll stomp Satan in his face 'till it melts my boots I'll use the sun for my throne, universe as my home And your skull as a crown to adorn my dome Watch p**n with your girl, slip a mickey in her Beck's Put a hickey on her neck, then the titties I caress Under match of icky s**, I'm the one the chickies sweat Make 'em s** it 'till their jaw's f**ed up like 50 Cent's Most of you f*ggots stay postin' that jacked sh** But when we retaliate, it's never some rap sh** Swing on your mandible and bring out mechanical Devices that splices flesh from the intangible I spark fire like electrical shocks And ready the Glocks, to clash with Connecticut cops You're on some Brad Pitt sh**, so you better go watch The movie Seven, cause you'll find your wife's head in a box [Verse 4: Tak] Rush you bustas, get touched with nunchucks You tough tough, askin' to really get f**ed up Who cares what you been through? I'm goin' against you, so Sharpen your sk**s while I sharpen my Ginsu Gas and ashes, and medical kits, but see That's what happens when chemicals mix The birth of a strange creature, umbilical split But for now, the main feature, you said it was sick [Verse 5: Celph Titled] The word on the streets is that I'm hellbound, cause I bully Christians But I stay up in the armory, developin' pulley systems For launchin' grenades strategically, onstage with heaters illegally Got the sound man shook at my vocal frequency Back at the crib, b**h better strap on a bib Cause when I'm bustin' off, it's drippin' off the tip of her chin Chickens and hens, you know I keep 'em bendin' over for me With my chef hat, stuffin' poultry on the upholstery Celph Titled's known as a gangsta to some I got the powers of the godz, acclimated to one All these young cats with Glocks, tryin' to clear the floor I'm old school, when I'm pullin' out my Fearless Four Hear the sound of the clap? Bury your face Cause the mag that I pack needs a carryin' case I'm not from the Aryan race, but I'll still persecute you Ride around in the trunk with a little hole to shoot through [Verse 6: Ryu] I'm "Word Perfect," back in the circuit Been...top ten since you were snatchin' purses Golf club thug, a nickel and dime hustler All them mob flicks are makin' you rhyme tougher When the nine clicks, you freeze Two sick emcees, get cool quick when I'm shootin' the breeze Who's this? Ryu and Tak, with Ap and Celph Spittin' heat 'till the plastic melt, watch it [Outro: Tak] Claim you wanna stay, but you have to go Grab the gun powder, blast the calico Time to saddle up, this ain't a talent show You wanna battle what? Bullets that travel slow [Outro 2: Ryu] Talk, but keep steppin' Discrete, false perception Talk, but keep steppin' Spark with heat weapons