Takbir (Styles of Beyond) - Bleach (Jimi Remix) lyrics

[Tak] Yo, swing the sword for the cla**ic year Bring the noise with your hands up, slash and tear Who can, fathom asthma, dash for air Spittin on the baby bib in the plastic chair What's up stupid? Shoot this, 1-5-1 In the shot gla**, hot flash - bangin on the drum, huh We cause hav-oc down in Las Vegas Paper trails racin Pelican Brief-cases We outrageous, name the streets gave us Yeah, we got fame, but now we heat blazers [Ryu] I let 'em all fly, ten in the clip, one in the chamber Thumbs up, another banger Untuck the flamer, dumbf** It's like gettin hit with a dump truck, brains and guts Maim, cut, aim, duck, same, stuff Get you cracked up like c**aine, heat 'em up Okay, I'll let a s**a's fly once Face down, found him in his Cap'n Crunch [Tak] Uhh, malpractice, a bang-all jam I joust rappers and track in the radar scans Flip beats with a crew like fleets and platoons Reach for the moon like Reese Witherspoon, uhh Don't stop the sure-shot, the rooftop anthem Blast the gold box, co*k back the cannon What's up partner, I got ya (what, what) Hope that bah-bah, crack the piсata Slapbox, mouth of backwash Teeth mashed up on the asphalt - ya dig? [Ryu] Set the pace like a Mustang mashin Up the stakes, who wanna cut the cake, I take cash Dropped on a blood-stained mattress, stop! You ain't got access, watch I'ma change my a**et, Ryu and Tak You little c*nts in the game, you can s** myco*k And lay flat on the ground, don't make 'em peep If you want the stains out now, get the bleach! [Interlude] [scratches] Get the bleach! [Ryu] Guess who got the rubber gloves and the bleach? Guess who rockin every club? That's me Get so hot, you feel the buzz in the streets Keepin it knockin, drop-drop that beat Guess who got the group name on top? S.O.B. got the rap game locked Who want what, when, why, and what-not Who got next up? Ryu and Tak [Tak] Yeah, here it comes, all you hear is a click Bloody brains on the sand was a Miracle Whip While the blood keeps gushin relish and pink mustard, huh I'ma slam 'til I tear it to bits 'Til the bell for the recess rang On the defense game, you feelin ill like P.F. Changs Hopscotch on the corpse 'til I drop the torch And burn crews for their views that'll rock with force Sayin, don't stop the sure-shot, the rooftop anthem Blast the gold box, co*k back the cannon What's up y'all, we don't stall Come, one, come all 'til we drop the ball like [Outro] [scratches] Get the bleach! [scratches] Get, get the bleach! [scratches] Get... get the bleach! [scratches] Get, get the bleach! [scratches] Get, get, get the bleach! [scratches] Get... get the bleach! (yeah)