Posse Slash - Vast Aire, Vast Aire featuring Karniege, Breez Evanflowin, Poison Pen & Aesop Rock

We slide out, it’s like Crunch, Captain

Not the cereal but suited like generals (Let's go)

Gripping the mic and moving any rooms

See Mighty Jo swing, smack from the bush

Grimy flow kings rap out the wood

Work when a boy twerk lines this good (Uh huh)

Who say we hiding in the hood, playing Holly games?

We drop hits here at the party, mayne

Listen, woman or child, the hood’s in the house

Now start looking around for me, Brooklyn-bound (Look)

Queens all-city, the kid putting it down (Look)

Probably in another town, unhooking her blouse

She waving in the air, saying, «Looky, meow»

Posse cut bodied her.

You better watch it, son

Yo, I ain’t trying to battle no more.

That shit is getting boring

The comp sucks.

My new hot stuff should get to touring (Hit the road)

Words are like weapons soaring, leaving sets unplugged

Disrespecting, it gets to you like Lauren

Shit’s hard.

Smoke grass to let it off

Me and Vast need cash, so we smash like ghetto raw

Straight beating the fuck out this verbal session, stressing this bitch

‘Til she’s screaming like.

With herbal essence, I

Spit a TEC at the mainstream, aiming at

Fake niggas who gang clean, ain’t seen jack

Hip hop is much bigger than rap.

You going for mines?

Get off the crack.

Bet on your ride?

I break your prize, leave you walking back

For the green, I’m a scene from the Hulk attack

I’m a vet.

You pose no threat.

You pussy

On the set like commercials with talking cats

My jersey been in the rafters.

Peep this towel-mouth

Brooklyn monster.

Knuckle up, speedbag your tonsils

Poison Pen’s name’s hitting in the street

All I do is threaten dudes to the rhythm of the beat

Branch Davidians trail me.

Got a cult following

Tungsten for tonsils, low blows spit halogen

Thought your block was wild?

Watch out.

It’s really off

Politicians pop off, turn the city hall to a city morgue (We want it all)

If there’s a brawl, really, dog, it’s prolly us

Tour bus boys ain’t stalled working on a posse cut

Ayyo, lips on your face don’t work.

Just like I’m

On the desert, baby.

The same as gamma-ray-strong birth

Bitch!

«Rap representing» — Sample from

Y’all know the name:

Aesop fucking Rock.

Ain’t a damn thing changed

Clubbed up in a property in helicopter hell

When all he wanted was to drink copper, crawl out of well

Jumping Jiminy in a gimme-gimme industry

New York bleed bricks, piss huts, and shit liberty

Briefing lizards, he sleeps the winters away

Weight flips snarky out in demos.

Let him keep the scissors

And all that good-good.

Smoked out and mobile

When his tummy growls in vowels, shit almost looks remotely simple (Oh)

Slumped on every portly mobile.

Porky ogre ace ignored

A forty focal.

Folk adored a forgey quirksy motor

Fuck what I’m gon' be.

This luck of the ugly

And I’m half-man, wormy, flunked, fucked.

What?

Dirty

From the dump, suck dump truck.

Let the peril fester

Right?

Curb your little ninjas and we’ll all break bread together

I know niggas in the street who delete oxygen

If you ain’t really ‘bout it, don’t box him in (Don't do that)

There’s no water but you gonna go swimming

We don’t like y’all.

We like women (I like girls)

You lie sweet but the truth’s like lemon

If you touch her right, she’ll start grinning (She'll start grinning)

I got something if you want to touch hands

Sucker emcees better change they plans

Pass the baton.

I’ll end the dash (End the dash)

That ain’t all the herb.

It’s only the stash

And this ain’t a posse cut.

It’s more of a slash

Part of the hurricane—only the splash

Styles upon styles upon styles is what I have

You trying to grab the Aire?

You don’t know the half

Hah.

You better off up north

And when you thinking we got you, the lights go off