Lyrics: Iqmal Ratna/Sophian Misran/Arif Azhar
Music: Iqmal Ratna
PH1
The street is a river where the cash flows
Them assholes acting like they know
The day that my father go hurt me the most
The game made me this way, gonna rock till the casket closed
Till your gasket blows, blowing your engine until you toast
I still battle foes, running errands with em broken toes
Toking grass focus comatose
Dopamine shots to the head just to let it go
If you stupid there’s no point of usin and abusin
Oil and water don’t make a fusion
In a bowl gold fish circular confusion
Faggots be pushin, composure be losing
I don’t give a ****, kick the back of your head
10 times dank chimes in your death time
See the red slime, flowing down in your back spine
See this MFkin track shine, mfkerz
MVL
Curam gerun Blanco terbang api lecur
Kata labur, suam panas besi hancur
Gerak tempur mulut sembur asap kabur
Suci bersih serbuk putih lenyap bayang undur
Bakar sayur di atur rentak gerak dan flow
Alir dalam kitaran elak berterabur
Ini rompakan dalam bar rombakan Blanco teratur
Hantar blow pukul baris seakan white snow
Menyalur haba Cold Wave bara panas
Tikam enam belas Lo fleece lengkap asas
Bahas lepas berkas, galas rima setiap nafas
Blanco lontar kata itu tanda tindak balas
Tidak waras pijak nahas rima beralas
Siap dihafaz jantung gelap cuci dibilas
Otak kebas kerah pintar kan ayat kemas
Hantar atas, tanpa atap ruang luas
Yang Ariff
Violence is a mood, Howling at the moon
God inside the womb, Quiet night in Rome
looking for my soul, handling paper
duels with twin sabres, Spin around tables
Hear the sound travel on cables
Polo cloth crazy horse stable
Spit a rhyme cheese and wine aging
Rather stay faceless, Blanco is the label
Contraband will send you to the angels
North Face always on a glacier
Cold case no trace sorted by nature
Living quite spacious, river flow acres
Gore-Tex waterproof matrix
Better know you basic
Move like I shape shift, ape shit
Only losing patience, out here making records
Rhymes well respected like a bunch of goodfellas
Stabbing bank tellers and wack rap ballads
The hawk flies to my hands got sharp talons
Knock you off balance, you lack the talent