Stand By - Diabolic

This is hiphop, get your muthafucking hands high!

Get 'em up!

Get 'em up!

One’s for the money, y’all, two’s for the show, in fact

Three’s for the loaded gat you hold when you wrote your raps

I ain’t holding back no more, if your flow is wack

I’m flying off the handle like the barrel from a broken bat

Anybody popping slick shit’s getting helicopter lifted

To the top of district hospitals for a doctor visit

'Bolic's optimistic’s opposite: apocalyptic

Brainstorm making rain drop acidic toxic liquid

I’ll knock you bitches into next week with a haymaker

And straight-razor your face when you land seven days later

I said pray your soul to keep when you go to sleep

But you sold the lease on your own beliefs like Roman priests

You probably told the beast Hip-Hop needs it’s own police

To patrol the streets and shows whenever something dope’s released

But the navy’s total fleet here storming a local beach

Told to breach my home, couldn’t get me out the zone I’ve reached

Make some muthafucking noise, scream like you never do

Let them know we here, punch the muthafucka next to you

Roll something, light it up, guzzle what’s inside your cup

Hold up, wait a minute, I don’t think you hype enough!

Who don’t give a fuck now?

Living like they can’t die

I said get your hands high, reach them for the damn sky

People get them up now, you don’t gotta ask why

I said get your hands high!

Verse two, stand by

Store my rhymes cryogenically for an entire century

And even science then’ll be baffled by the chemistry

The rapid rise in energy’s analyzed forensically

To fathom why this natural high’s trapped inside your memory

So why do rappers lie, glamorizing weaponry?

Getting away with murder like the cat who’s driving Kennedy

I’ll have your lives in jeopardy, receiving intravenous fluid

Until the thieves I’m crew with pull the plug from your breathing unit

I peeped the blueprint of your music, every bar and measure

Planting demo charges to tear apart the architecture

My squad marched together through the arctic weather

In the hardest sector and left them marked forever like a Scarlet Letter

Scar a veteran for meddling in our endeavors

So enjoy getting tarred and feathered while your arms are severed

Y’all will never stop this moon out the boonies

Who spits more jewels out than that dude Mouth in Goonies

Pray to god when you go to mass that someone that I know will slash

Your throat with the broken glass from a Corona broke in half

I’m Jehova’s wrath, but worse than the pope in Catholic church

Christening the Antichrist while he’s soaked in afterbirth

Half a verse got you spacing out like Captain Kirk

'til I throw you back to earth and leave you miles below the grass and dirt

The gat’ll burst at the first cat I face, y’all

And that’s why you shook to respond, like Magic 8 Balls

Saint Paul, the Great Wall, New York is the Norwegians

Fuck what they force-feeding, I’ll upchuck in a board meeting

Four seasons, year-round, spitting that blue magic

And wouldn’t wear down in a triple fat goose jacket

Can pull ratchets like mechanics, I got screws loose

But fuck a deuce-deuce, I’ll drop two nukes through your moon-roof

And it’s fool-proof, so I’ma act a fool like Raul Duke

With two turntables and a mic, that’s my true roots