Crispy (192) - Tonedeff

YES!

You are now rocking with the brother that can bend space and time over the

bass with rhymes

So no mistakes, you better go with the pace or die

Tone is the name — if you don’t know it, then 'que sera'

Go head and take a shot, You’re a disgrace!

I’m not following them bricks, it’s like you’re showing the way to Oz!

So they complain cause I got em holding my weight at the bottom

Knowing they ain’t gonna bother to — face off

Brace to brawl, I’ve had enough of the safe talk

You’re ass backwards, throwing a bat at a baseball

I hate when they call me a fast rapper

Shame on you hate mongers heaping the praise on them fake frauds

They’re claiming their favorites have got a gain on me, bating me often

But I’m remaining calm in a state of elated dominance

Aiming to body em, making a moniker

Taking them down by the way that the audience savors every sound to be like «Damn!

y’all hear what I just did?»

There ain’t no mothafucka that be spitting it this quick

Living or dead, hit em in the head when they listen

Give 'em a sec, It’s a bit depressing they missed it

This kid, flips it the best, with minimal breaths

And lyrical depth.

said with a crispness

Typical vengeful niggas reject that I’m swifter than them

And I’m willing to bet if you listen back: it’s SHIT

Critics is inconsistent

Hypocritical idiots with no business

Giving anyone lip when they’re just some dimwits

Stay defending a prick like a bitch that’s dick-whipped

Viscious with this gift, No gimmicks

Rhythmic with a twist, and I’ll never tame this flow

Cause brains implode from the name alone, So yo

You might wanna take it slow

V2: (180 BPM)

Let’s step it up!

At a minimum

Tell me I’m the best in the bunch, and admit it, cuz

You don’t wanna test with the level that I spit from

Puppeteer snares, get Gepetto with a kick drum

Niggas ain’t impressed with the fluff that you givin 'em

Beat 'em in the head with a punch, and a billy club

Either you caressing your guns or obsessed with your dunks

If you quest for the funk, then Tonedeff is the one

With the sets you can trust

And you better believe it cause I’m an excellent judge

Making records appealing and big events with a buzz

And you’ll never compete cause you’re too slow — prolly couldn’t make a dent

with bus

On a benz from the front

Threaten me once and I’ll make a mess of your gums Crest shouldn’t touch

Shoulda kept it on the HUSH-HUSH

But you too stupid, and let it run, now you’re dead up in a dump truck

So jet when the tension combusts

And don’t mumble under your breath, I put a set of vents in your lungs

Cause eventually, envious chumps, will attempt to assess that there’s

Special effects when I strum

But NO!

There is no illusion to what’s happening

I’m actually rapping this with ravenous tenacity

Go back and read the fact I bet the baddest if we can’t agree

That ain’t a motherfucker as fast mathematically

YO!

I don’t wanna step on any toes

But the winning flow’s infinitely Tone’s

And if we zone into the prose, how it’s written and composed

Ain’t nobody with a «able as dope that they wrote —

And SO!

I am not a one-trick pony show

Exposed when the drums get slow

With a twist a' the throat, Busta~bout N9ne techs at your dome

Singin while the thugs sift through the bones!

(Repeat of Verse 1 @ 192 BPM)

YES!

You are now rocking with the brother that can bend space and time over the

bass with rhymes

So no mistakes, you better go with the pace or die

Tone is the name — if you don’t know it, then 'que sera'

Go head and take a shot, You’re a disgrace!

I’m not following them bricks, it’s like you’re showing the way to Oz!

So they complain cause I got em holding my weight at the bottom

Knowing they ain’t gonna bother to — face off

Brace to brawl, I’ve had enough of the safe talk

You’re ass backwards, throwing a bat at a baseball

I hate when they call me a fast rapper

Shame on you hate mongers heaping the praise on them fake frauds

They’re claiming their favorites have got a gain on me, bating me often

But I’m remaining calm in a state of elated dominance

Aiming to body em, making a moniker

Breaking them down by the way that the audience savors every sound to be like «Damn!

y’all hear what I just did?»

There ain’t no muffucka that be spitting it this quick

Living or dead, hit em in the head when they listen

Give 'em a sec, It’s a bit depressing they missed it

This kid, flips it the best, with minimal breaths

And lyrical depth, said with a crispness

Typical bitch rappers are claiming they’re swifter than tone, but I bet upon

playback: it’s SHIT

Critics is inconsistent

Hypocritical idiots with no business

Giving anyone lip when they’re just some dimwits

Stay defending a prick like a bitch that’s dick-whipped

Viscious with this gift, No gimmicks

Rhythmic with a twist, and I’ll never tame this flow

Cause brains implode from the name alone, So yo

You might wanna take it slow