Styles Of Beyond Superstars Lyrics

[Takbir]
Aiyyo, first things first
It's time to shake ground in the eighth round
Box battle and break down
For the beak in the rhyme tone
jump in the cyclone
S-T-Y-L-E-S, yes I know
Give the rap phene vaccine
packed red beam
Put 'em up, what the f___
You plucked a bad seed
Off the wall, spittin' the guerilla tag team
What's up now, duck down stuff that can't breathe

[Ryu]
Yo- you know the routine, the demon effect
Please, don't step, you wanna be one of my pet peeves
The more beef the better; sound gay
But you all wanna sleep together, ok
In the club we gon' sneak berrettas
Why not? We got so much street credit, the f___in' police let us
Now that's bullshit, cause we don't pack heat
So come and get your head crackin' up at me

[Chorus]
Kick it- movin' it's on now
Making it punk loud
Shaking the buck wild
Rapin' the punk style
Fakin' the funk pal
Dunk watch the punk
What now? Watch your battleship get sunk down
Click (click) pow (pow) knocked (knocked) out (out)
What? Just what I thought, what's up now?
Hu- Hu- bugs out through the speaker
dap-dap dabbin' the track with both hands
I'm like Hu-hu- bugs out through the speaker
dap-dap dabbin' the track with both hands

[Ryu]
Hold it down, never give in
Styles ever get limbs
Or whether you want it to end
Dirty seringe, I murder 'em again
97 serving them sins
Uh 30 your friends get knocked out, turbulent wind
Hopped out, what you want, big verb in the gin
I'm a fish; you can tell by the flippers or fins
C'mon

[Takbir]
Yo- I got a rock style
Pivot the offspring and joke with 'em
With a distorted gist off string
Who am i? Rushin' what leg? who and Tak?
Pushin' your bed hotter than Quebec in July
Area 51, stereo, rive gun live
Here we go, s_____drop some
For the kids in the hall with the new block tape
Blast from both angles like boom dock saint
So get up get up and let the sound hit ya
Snap it's already ya style picture
(Lot electrical)

[Chorus]

[Tak]
Who the hell wear splittin' the belly up on a selfish
Shinnin' in your style playin' the fell blitz
Drillin' your brain, like rap and video games
Feel the seringe for the styles that stickin' in your brain

[Ryu]
Yo- what kind of s___ is he on
Really is styles, really be on
C'mon punk f___ off; You really gotta be gone
Ripped out of your brain
p___ed covered in s___ to diss this s_____game
Son of a b____
I'ma start killin' for kicks
There ain't an air force 1 inn the globe I can't fig, get it?
I'm sick with it, when I spit the venom
And it drip's up in 'em
And it get's the women in a
Quick dilemma; We can settle it now
And I don't know who did it but they said it was styles

bugs out through the speaker
dap-dap dabbin' the track with both hands
bugs out through the speaker
dap-dap dabbin' the track with both hands

[Chorus]

Gigantor (Hidden Track)

yo we light em up without a glitch
in the pacific and lock wings
shot stinger we double deep, swinging
we swap MIGs
what's up?
are you ready to conquer the globe?
me too
battle at will with the same gills we breathe through
the 20-ton 40-foot point 1
massive attack battery pack at capacity point guns
alkali-driven to shoot gifts given at risk
rippin a piece of of rythym
entangle, ribbon, and flip like
yo, lets plan a murder
start a religion and twist vision to fit further
imprison people to listen
yo, split decision
more like a mic incision abouts
i'll beat you in the brain until your thoughts fall out
yo, gigantic flo-frantic globe lamp
in j__an, france, and rome dance communist anthem
wind up on the mount with the pitcher
we toss tantrums
rap becomes another endeavor that can't amp 'em

Tak:

yeah, yo, yo
the g i g a n t o r
wud it look like
something with a molecular form
steppin' us on that ah' more
sleepin, the words yet
da force
keepin the verse gets the first
still perfect
plug in my circuits
reverse it
i i i study my purpose
somebody let me out of the shell
i develope the spell of the ain't s___
would coulda splashed in your face s___
fingerpaint sasquash mouth full of language
idenified the foreign exchanges
see i form of styles what?
forever come off rough
call me Tak, your automo-ma-bile with the til'
hand can' with the mic
its sand pikes
centipedes
wud traps
thought whu' fair fight
huh, what happened to the kicks and the clappin
kidnapped 'em reserved for the words and the fashion
thats why we came on land and
picked the pockets of the sleepy
greet me, i command it