Lyrics of Shy Mascot – Prince Lotor Flow

Ever Since I was 15 tried to master//

The intricate patterns of speech I crafted//

Bring Heat, spit live-r than the last kid//

Every sixteen, to the line, is a classic//

When I attack the track, past vicious//

Spit enough fire to last through the damn winter//

I’m amped, man the rap written//

Feel like pure energy trapped in black prisms//

That’s how I got fuel to burn like Lucifer//

Now listen here, who do you prefer//

He who force the raw, but ain’t killer//

Or he who words evolve to paint pictures//

But it aint just talk, my aims different///

From these who lame and claim to aim pistols//

Don’t gang bang or slang, it’s just fiction//

Words maintained and framed by great actors//

Thespians, everybody tryin to flex again//

Buff Bagwells, raps getting sad, well//

Shit, I guess that’s just how the game go//

Scratch that//

I guess that’s just how the game been//

Scratch that//

I guess its just how it will be//

Sambo, Rambo, assholes kill me//

Ya man flow, past cold slash so filthy//

Fam go ham, Van Damme givin Bolo hands so swiftly//

The damn glow’s in me//

When I seize the mic, you see the light//

I always bring something to the table, like Jesus Christ//

Believe the hype, it aint nothing feint//

The Black Lion//

Raps tiring//

No need to pack iron//

No trigger, cause the track fire//

Tryin to follow my lead//

Put you under pressure//

That’ll turn coals in black diamonds//

I’m something like bill Russell in the paint//

Or Pippen off the glass straight to Jordan on the break//

For gods sake, you all fake//

Talking tall tales, bout to blow//

False alarm, ya career was a bomb scare//

Ya’ll boys ain’t all there, I tell em man//

It’s like going toe to toe, with Lieutenant Dan//

Ain’t none better than, me bet it fam//

They think they prime, they whole style irrelevant//

Gwan hit ya boy with a lob in a hurry//

I throw it down like it’s Crawford to Curry//

Pardon me buddy, but you lames is hardly a worry//

Cause you aint got the jargon to touch me//

It gets ugly//

I’ll murder you in booths, and not even Godfather can help you Sonny//

Been sick since a kid, had a chip on my shoulder//

Then the chip turned from a brick to a boulder//

But, nevertheless, it was effortless//

Now my shoulder look like the broadside of Everest//

So harm who dog//

If you wan sleep with the fishes better have that green frogsuit on//

Yea the bars are strong, they beyond you frauds//

Who talk tough, but don’t cause cause alarm//

The Black Lion//

Raps tiring//

No need to pack iron//

No trigger, cause the track fire//

Tryin to follow my lead//

Put you under pressure//

That’ll turn coals in black diamonds//

Four star pro, know my role//

Not a smart dumb rapper tryin to force art though//

Far as morons go//

My so called foes could be Sauron cloned with that Mordor glow//

Cats combined to form Voltron though//

But still can’t stop the Prince Lotor flow//

Villanous, backslash articulate//

Maximum carnage, tag team, Venomous//

Man catch wind of it, ya’ll get the gist of it//

Fire bars, drop jules, fam ask physicists//

Ya dealin with a lot of science//

I got my Heisenberg hat on, periodically straight cookin in these damn songs//