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Styles - Playing With Fire lyrics
[Verse 1: Tak]
 Stand back, put the picture my frame
 The handcraft of a master, the flicker, the flame
 That sell three madman Megadef LP
 Monster mash, prop for what? From S.O.B.
 Shout to Honeycomb...what would I be without wax?
 Just another empty battery shell in the pack
 String on the puppet, laughin', claimin' I'm all of that
 When I know in fact, everything you claim is all crap
 [Verse 2: Ryu]
 Yo, got the fuse lit, keepin' it movin', so
 Freakin' abusive, people are pukin', so
 Sick of the music, suckin' the fumes in
 So don't get it confused, I'm not you, stupid
 Hundred-proof booze in the back, all tipsy
 Bring two clips, I'm clappin' all sixty
 Swing through quick and bust if one's empty
 Your chances of leavin' the club: fifty/fifty
 [Verse 3: Apathy]
 Wanna fuck around with Hell's recruits?
 I'll stomp Satan in his face 'till it melts my boots
 I'll use the sun for my throne, universe as my home
 And your skull as a crown to adorn my dome
 Watch porn with your girl, slip a mickey in her Beck's
 Put a hickey on her neck, then the titties I caress
 Under match of ??? set's, I'm the one the chickies sweat
 Make 'em suck it 'till their jaw's fucked up like 50 Cent's
 Most of you faggots stay postin' that jacked shit
 But when we retaliate, it's never some rap shit
 Swing on your mandible and bring out mechanical
 Devices that splices flesh from the intangible
 I spark fire like electrical shocks
 And ready the glocks, to clash with Connecticut cops
 Who on some Brad Pitt shit, so you better go watch
 The movie Seven, 'cause you'll find your wife's head in a box
 [Verse 4: Tak]
 Rush you bustas, get touched with nunchucks
 You tough tough, askin' to really get fucked up
 Who cares what you been through? I'm goin' against you, so
 Sharpen your skills while I sharpen my Ginsu
 Gas and ashes, and medical kits, but seeStyles - Playing With Fire - http://motolyrics.com/styles/playing-with-fire-lyrics.html
 That's what happens when chemicals mix
 The birth of a strange creature, umbilical split
 But for now, the main feature, you said it was sick
 [Verse 5: Celph Titled]
 The word on the streets is that I'm hellbound, 'cause I bully Christians
 But I stay up in the armory, developin' pulley systems
 For launchin' grenades strategically, onstage with heaters illegally
 Got the sound man shook at my vocal frequency
 Back at the crib, bitch better strap on a bib
 'Cause when I'm bustin' off, it's drippin' off the tip of her chin
 Chickens and hens, you know I keep 'em bendin' over for me
 With my chef hat, stuffin' poultry on the upholstery
 Celph Titled's known as a gangsta to some
 I got the powers of the godz, acclimated to one
 All these young cats with glocks, tryin' to clear the floor
 I'm old school, when I'm pullin' out my Fearless Four
 Hear the sound of the clap? Bury your face
 'Cause the mag that I pack needs a carryin' case
 I'm not from the Aryan race, but I'll still persecute you
 Ride around in the trunk with a little hole to shoot through
 [Verse 6: Ryu]
 I'm "Word Perfect," back in the circuit
 Been...top ten since you were snatchin' purses
 Golf club thug, a nickel and dime hustler
 All them mob flicks are makin' you rhyme tougher
 When the nine clicks, you freeze
 Two sick emcees, get cool quick when I'm shootin' the breeze
 Who's this? Ryu and Tak, with Ap and Celph
 Spittin' heat 'till the plastic melt, watch it
 [Outro: Tak]
 Claim you wanna stay, but you have to go
 Grab the gun powder, blast the calico
 Time to saddle up, this ain't a talent show
 You wanna battle what? Bullets that travel slow
 [Outro 2: Ryu]
 Talk, but keep steppin'
 Discrete, false perception
 Talk, but keep steppin'
 Spark with heat weapons









