Tropic States(feat. Tino Vega, Rk, Murdock, Vocab, Dutchmassive & Primetyme)[Dirty]-Walkmen

(Intro: Tino Vega) Yeah, yo, yo new start baby, what Genix, all day every day, atomic, hard head baby (Verse 1: Tino Vega) Yo, yo, ay, yo in this two triple 0 spitting fire flow Through your team photos and hit me up Don’t give them Tampa hos a dime, they be shiesty Awful pricey, acting like they too hot for polar icees They want their diamond watches now, smell the power Watch me peel out, on a n***a dollar mountain biking You heard what jigga said right, get to bouncing Catch a cab or take a city bus ride or something No blunt puffing for you, what happened to you You used to be battle-able, this tragedy sounded very true See that chick in the berry blue skirt, she called me a jerk For working the wars too long, I had her on her knees and palms Screaming my song for treating me wrong The groupie soon to be singing along It takes not long at all just to feel what I’m on And Celph putting me on (And that’s the type of s**t we on) (Verse 2: RK ) Ay, you it’s RK, running to kill Not your everyday run of the mill emcee That’s running the field with guns full of steel Navigating the globe with a compass and shield I don’t fumble for real, run though block stumbling steel While rupturing shield and crumpling heels Living large, dog, but I’m still hungry for mills I was summoned for skill but let niggas know, lord is coming for real Covered in teal, with hundreds of pills, cause we popping at will We mad enough to pop shots at your bill And in the meantime, we shopping for deals With lots of appeal, I got to rhyme like a klepto has to steal I spit more heat than a glock in your grill Noting I got is concealed, easily seen like you watching a film Everything I spit they dropping it real My words are like motion pictures grubbing for mills RK the hip hop equivalent of Steven Speil (Verse 3: Murdock) Ay, yo we make it happen, never slacking up on the macking I’m in the money trap in a platinum plaque, jacking Don’t get caught slipping, mic ripping and cris sipping 32 glocks spitting infinite rounds when I start flipping I ain’t tripping, leave your faggoty poverty stricken My clique will stay shitting and passing out verbal ass whippings Whether air max, air Jordan’s or Bo Jackson, never relax And catch a reaction asking for action It’s Murdock, I know that you hate that I’m rapping Cocky and jaw clapping cheesing and cheek smacking You in the club acting, talking about y’all clapping Ran up on the real, got dropped and ain’t know what happened (Verse 4: Primetyme) I’m impossible to burn like TV dinners, impossible to document You might as well do a project on Blair Witches Impossible to cross like barbed wired fences Impossible to peel off like dentures, once I'm hard in your grill like dentists While you struggle that, I’m juggling bowling pins and play tennis Some say that I’m cocky and arrogant Some say my genius is like the s**t hidden in Roswell with other evidence You all B***h like feminists injected with extra estrogen I don’t play no more, that went out with little league baseball A high intelligence, you ain’t ready for what I got in store Further more, you don’t compare to me, not even barely I have you hiding in the attic with Anne Frank and her family (Verse 5: Dutchmassive) Listen when I speak, your whole crew’s delivery is weak F**k peace, I want beef, let’s take it to the streets I eat your whole squad and spit out odd dismembered globs of kids Who acting hard and got they body frame scarred You jumping out of cars, we jumping out of planes, survive the impact And gat you on a subway train (train, train) the Dutchmassive motto Finish the whole bottle, get weeded and leave your chest hollow Hollering at whores you hang around with, the loudest pipers in the club (No doubt, kid) Mega hard junk planet bombard your stereo, scenario F-L-A team get the dinero (Verse 6: Celph Titled) When Celph Titled and the track collide You see worldwide action International united chrome passion, Apocalyptic impact that make your bones quiver My sixth sense is to rob from holy water rivers And all them other niggas That don’t speak the truth about the God supreme, A sala to bomb regime Poly-ing with aolites up in the synagogue Accurate to details, minus the etcetera My father told me to bust first, remain calm And recited words you’ll find in the same song Unique wisdom, centennial prophesies 8-1-3 monopoly, my Vietnam philosophy (Verse 7: Vocab) Sometimes I might bust first depending on my mood Whether I’m bent or sober, or just laying in a coma My girl standing next to me saying it’s over But the only one who could judge me is Jehovah He was there when I was O-D’d in a coma My whole world was frozen, thought I was one of the chosen My life was only worth what you holding A blue beeper and a dime sack of reefer 20 dollars in my wallet and not a damn cent of profit Sick and tired of living this way, I’ve got to make it They legislate rules so I could break it 10, 20, f**k life, I’ve got to kill niggas to make it And your boy going to eat, so don’t get it mistaken I’m trying to count hundos until my wrist be shaking