Synops - Own Game (feat. Fresh Sly) | Текст песни

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• Synops
• Own Game (feat. Fresh Sly)

Verse (Fresh Sly):

I'm outshinin' stars on the sky, night be my sister -
Call me the twister, sinister-blister, the dark mister
A full fist of game I got on lock, and I don't give a fuck,
Old-school creature, I rock-rock.
The mood switcher, the type of shit to cut your wrist to,
I smoke the perfect swisher spliff to... the Henny-drifter.
I blacklist ya, as if the death french-kissed ya,
My mind excels and prevails like Derek Fisher.
Fresh Sly has a new vision, the high stake,
Check the rhymes I make, love seeing my pen ejaculate...
Your lines are fake, not intuition,
My atrocity exhibition will tear ya apart like Joy Division.
So what you sayin'? Wanna keep playin'?
I'm slayin' booty MC's, with my lyrical ammo, sprayin';
The greater rhyme creator can be a shot-caller -
My rhyme steez make fake MC's freeze like water.
What!

Hook:
Fuck all that pretty thang, I beat death at its own game!

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