currently signed with Legacy Records, So So Def South
heres my first joint............
Automatic Visions by: Synthetic Lungs
verse 1
roll a fat joint and inhale the smoke, spliff with fire sparking exhale the weed till your broke/ as a child fatherless systimatically destroyed mcs with what i wrote, supposedly track masters say lets go/ but spit with "strep throats", they sinking like icebergs with "titanic" boats/ the rap game is a castle with cash levels, your apparently stuck in the moat/ floating down the river of the hood, with out a "tek" to hold/ should mcs with platinum and gold, lucifer stolen souls, creap with rolled down windows and "glocks" bold?/ become one with the sidewalk cement mold, police chalk and sirens flashes flowed/ with the quickness better than, nymphos in intercourse moans/ you got skills with spiked punchlines and answers, led poisoning infecting your bones/ like mantle cancers, bringing the color "red" splatters/ hiding behind tinted strips sown to glass, im the lyrical master teaching the class/ you don't matter, your heart beats gets faster when i pass/ knocks slower and slower when the "mic" like surface to air missles crashed/ block party bash the next day where the "do not cross this line" yellow tape was at/ marking and mapping the burnt crater tracks, 5.0 couldn't react quickly with a sentencing comeback/ thats a fact
thinking its so simple
we try............to run from the "AUTOMATIC VISIONS"
life goes by so fast with guns concealed with non-deceptive intentions
we try............to run from the "AUTOMATIC VISIONS"
these so called mc killers, hit the alleyway as they hear the scream of tires quickly spinning
verse 2
materialistic invisions of glock handling cause dollar expenses, black market weapons strippen/ death rate count shots, revenge plots thwarted by 5.0 missions/ its this cycle that keeps the street asphault layer by layer liften, till heaven finds it gates missing/ mcs come at me with go cart engines, i turn on the slaughter with 12 cylinder pistons/ 1st to 5th gears switching without carborators slippen, face to face to drive by bullets emitting/ 50/50 rate on who finds their blood drippen, all the while police at toll booths with drug dogs sniffen/ then you question your game credentials existing/ feeling like snitching crooked, like gold platted grillls with front teeth cripplin/ cause im the lyrical dentist pulling, life forces that end up in wooden crossed caskets similar to life tooken christians/ improving? from "The Roc" to "Rawkus Records" you swing with twig arm extensions/ i bring the lennox lewis jab, to the muhammed ali hail mary rhyme bout rope ripping/ total knock out, that stab the weak mcs ears whose listening/ deaf and blind find salvation from my devine positions, mella-drama fake thugs with blank magazine clips clicking/ the truth hurts more, if you ignore it awhile before it sets in/ vehicle to pedestrians, find them with buckets there kicking/ innocent bystanders from now on jump at every instance, go from having a normal life to a stage of shock witness/ you know i spit with the sickness.............
thinking its so simple
we try............to run from the "AUTOMATIC VISIONS"
life goes by so fast with guns concealed with non-deceptive intentions
we try............to run from the "AUTOMATIC VISIONS"
these so called mc killers, hit the alleyway as they hear the scream of tires quickly spinning
automatics......yeah
systematics.....yeah
daily news grafix......yeah
hypocritics call it tragic.....yeah
only certain minds know why it happended......yeah
yeah, yeah........yeah........yeah
my mc name is : Synthetic Lungs if you want to know, check me out if i catch on
heres my first joint............
Automatic Visions by: Synthetic Lungs
verse 1
roll a fat joint and inhale the smoke, spliff with fire sparking exhale the weed till your broke/ as a child fatherless systimatically destroyed mcs with what i wrote, supposedly track masters say lets go/ but spit with "strep throats", they sinking like icebergs with "titanic" boats/ the rap game is a castle with cash levels, your apparently stuck in the moat/ floating down the river of the hood, with out a "tek" to hold/ should mcs with platinum and gold, lucifer stolen souls, creap with rolled down windows and "glocks" bold?/ become one with the sidewalk cement mold, police chalk and sirens flashes flowed/ with the quickness better than, nymphos in intercourse moans/ you got skills with spiked punchlines and answers, led poisoning infecting your bones/ like mantle cancers, bringing the color "red" splatters/ hiding behind tinted strips sown to glass, im the lyrical master teaching the class/ you don't matter, your heart beats gets faster when i pass/ knocks slower and slower when the "mic" like surface to air missles crashed/ block party bash the next day where the "do not cross this line" yellow tape was at/ marking and mapping the burnt crater tracks, 5.0 couldn't react quickly with a sentencing comeback/ thats a fact
thinking its so simple
we try............to run from the "AUTOMATIC VISIONS"
life goes by so fast with guns concealed with non-deceptive intentions
we try............to run from the "AUTOMATIC VISIONS"
these so called mc killers, hit the alleyway as they hear the scream of tires quickly spinning
verse 2
materialistic invisions of glock handling cause dollar expenses, black market weapons strippen/ death rate count shots, revenge plots thwarted by 5.0 missions/ its this cycle that keeps the street asphault layer by layer liften, till heaven finds it gates missing/ mcs come at me with go cart engines, i turn on the slaughter with 12 cylinder pistons/ 1st to 5th gears switching without carborators slippen, face to face to drive by bullets emitting/ 50/50 rate on who finds their blood drippen, all the while police at toll booths with drug dogs sniffen/ then you question your game credentials existing/ feeling like snitching crooked, like gold platted grillls with front teeth cripplin/ cause im the lyrical dentist pulling, life forces that end up in wooden crossed caskets similar to life tooken christians/ improving? from "The Roc" to "Rawkus Records" you swing with twig arm extensions/ i bring the lennox lewis jab, to the muhammed ali hail mary rhyme bout rope ripping/ total knock out, that stab the weak mcs ears whose listening/ deaf and blind find salvation from my devine positions, mella-drama fake thugs with blank magazine clips clicking/ the truth hurts more, if you ignore it awhile before it sets in/ vehicle to pedestrians, find them with buckets there kicking/ innocent bystanders from now on jump at every instance, go from having a normal life to a stage of shock witness/ you know i spit with the sickness.............
thinking its so simple
we try............to run from the "AUTOMATIC VISIONS"
life goes by so fast with guns concealed with non-deceptive intentions
we try............to run from the "AUTOMATIC VISIONS"
these so called mc killers, hit the alleyway as they hear the scream of tires quickly spinning
automatics......yeah
systematics.....yeah
daily news grafix......yeah
hypocritics call it tragic.....yeah
only certain minds know why it happended......yeah
yeah, yeah........yeah........yeah
my mc name is : Synthetic Lungs if you want to know, check me out if i catch on
