D.Evilman ftg Paranorm - Fools Rush In (1999)

D.Evilman ftg Paranorm – Fools Rush In (1999)

D.Evilman ftg Paranorm – Fools Rush In (1999)
From the EP: The God Vs. The Devil

Vinyl Available!

Fools Rush In
(C. Smith, D. Varga)

My style’s diverse, deadly verses castin’ die curses
Die cast metallic mics bless you with your last rights
My sights set on you, I’m shootin’ a spear through your spirit
Throughout the sphere I’m spreadin’ fear with the fuckin’ lyric
Format my raps forms to formulate the new scriptures
Elliptical loops, bringin’ illusions through ya mixer
My styles calibrated, created from the highest caliber
Algebraic equations, knowledge of calculus and calendars
Amateurs, they need not listen, the one with verbal mastery
This bastard P be rapidly committin’ rappin’ blasphemy
You blastin’ me? For real? You must be packin’ steel
Me and Devil are, kevlar, got that Gang Starr mass appeal
The words criminal, follow them con templates
Continental beat breaks, that you can’t contemplate
Consistent moral mistakes due to constant sin traits
Continue to shut you down, you can’t concentrate
It’s them manic maniacs, mainly the main act black
Attackin’ with automatics from Appomattox to Atlanta Strictnine be spaced out, I’m down to
earth like sea level Several punks stepped to C and got they whole block leveled By the
cunnin’ and connin’, Parakhan’s among the greats
Place my name in a psalm, engrave my words upon slates
The verbalist, verbal bliss, verbally Chris kicks
Like Pele through malays, with more joints than reggae
I slang a, midwest style, aborting your recordings
Contorting mic contortionist, this portion be the realest
Head Strong like a rhino, check the voice echo (echo)
Unlimited styles, rockin’ spots like ya momma’s freckles
Wreck those flows you chose with my old rhyme patterns
Shatter men then I send them to the Devilman’s caverns

Fools rush in, even where angels fear to tread
It only takes one verse when I burst to fly ya fuckin’ head
And with the rhyme, break your spine like a suplex
You know my city, S.B.I., don’t ever test

How many have seen this, verbal genius, leave you squeamish like bulimics
Use to be fat, now your english skills is weaker than anemics
I’m a crush you like that crew in Russia, bust your teeth in for beefin’
The season for the treason, leavin’ them bodies bleedin’, even
The ones that know me, tend to keep a sharp eye on me
These A&R’s all diss me, I bomb like Ted Kasyznski
Don’t temp me like manpower, I devour, like a jowa
You never seen my face, taste defeat then know it’s sour
Usually, I bruise Mc’s, I try to keep it nice and legal
There’s a part of me that’s evil, turnin’ rap stars into Stizo
Take you deeper than a frogman, have ho’s hawkin’ like Staci Augmen
Often times they hear these rhymes, they can make they nipples soften
I be flossin’, like a dentist, when it’s the verse before the chorus
Of course it’s, known that your wack writing your shit with a thesaurus
I be blowin’ up your tour bus, Visine screams through your blood stream
What brings you to this pain, the fact your interrupting
The king that’s prone to mood swings, Do things to warp your mind
I’m down with Strictnine, but this time, rap poisons in your vein lines
Till the pain blinds your senses, senseless slaughter with a sentence
It’s the one and only instance, you will pay the price like Vincent
While Chris straight levitate, Dave radiates just like an X-ray
Let’s say I see right through you, read your mind just like an essay
And then my testes, be hangin’, like stalagmites when fags bite
I might use mics plus spite to sacrifice your type at midnight
Hindsight is 20/20, so’s MD and I drink plenty
Many crews actin’ too friendly, I down they ass like Remy
Martin’ then I keep sparkin’, I blaze just like an arson
I’m a savage like Tarzan, spaced out like a fuckin’ martian
Barge in and bust your ass, quick fast like Oscar De La Hoya
Employ a style to build you up and then destroy you

Fools rush in, even where angels fear to tread
It only takes one verse when I burst to fly ya fuckin’ head
And with the rhyme, break your spine like a suplex
You know my city, S.B.I., don’t ever test

COPYRIGHT © SUPER SCIENCE AND SEX MUSIC, 1998

It’s not too late to get one of the remaining cult classic 12″s, “God Vs Devil”… Buy direct from me and avoid the vinyl hustlers. If you want, I’ll sign something ill on your copy.

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