Bring It to Me - Andy Cooper

It’s a Rap raconteur’s last massacre

Better hide under the hatch when the blasts occur

In a true war of words to enforce my turf

With all sorts of hurt I would scorch the earth

Kinda like ‘Nam when the Vietcong got to swarming

I love the smell of Napalm in the morning

Agent Orange putting your troops under siege

As I stand in command with the boots and fatigues

To march up into town with a Light Brigade

Quick strike then ignite with a live grenade

From the rear you hear Samurai knights invade

Long sword slice and my mic’s the blade

Excalibur to vex the next challenger

Left a mess that would impress Gallagher

Cutting deep and I’ll slash the last man

Then light the matchstick and pass the gas can

I’m so sick of the disrespect

It’s time to zip your lip up and hit the deck

If not the words I spit gonna split you neck

So if you step it’s your death, bring it to me

Bring it to me

Bring it on (C'mon)

A final fiasco attack with a rap flow

A cap full of shrapnel for rascally rascals

There’s no need to rift concede or plead the fifth

Better not get me peeved or miffed

And don’t bring a weak wood horse like the Greeks

Man, this is D-day Normandy Beach

And I’m mad like lynch-mob formed in the streets

White flag raised, yeah, of course you retreat

(I need help) It’s too late to make the break

You can’t evacuate better face your fate

You’re gonna fall that protocol

I’m Conrad Murray with the Propofol, listen to your motor stall

Air ripped from your lung as you’re stung

Like a whip by the tip of my tongue getting swung

Like a battle-axe dispatched to make chaps collapse

I just laugh while I’m thrashing cats

Body-blow, jab, uppercut, on the ropes

Boy, you’re getting licked like envelopes

And you can only look up like Lob City

As I speed away like the guy who shot Biggie

We can shoot, brawl or stab give me all you have

See, I’m the Red Army at Stalingrad

‘Cause every one of my flows hits hard as old Tyson blows

Don’t oppose or your eyes are closed

Lights out!

It’s about to history

You’re Khadafy trying to flee Tripoli

You’re Saddam claiming a big victory

You’re Kennedy waiving from a limousine

Popped like Anwar Sadat and Pac

I got him like Bin Laden thought he wouldn’t get caught

But ain’t no where you can hide when you dared to connice

Now you swear and deny man, spare me the lie

Just shut your mouth and don’t be optimistic

It’s about to get apocalyptic

Swarms of locust, flesh disease

Famines, plagues, refugees

On your knees as you plead and you beg from the mud

Your request will be met with death from above

Incendiary bomb even the cemetery’s gone

So there’s nothing for your next of kin to ever carry on

Stone cold retribution

Strap you down for the execution

The beep slows as your heartrate stalls

I hang up the phone if the governor calls