Orange Boxcutter 2 Testo

Yeah, comin' back around
The gutter, the orange Boxcutter shit
Face crunched up with night goggle on
Vanderslice
War
Rrrah!

I spit blood out, rinse my face clean
Orange acts from the sink
Listening to Big explain Beef I could engrace yo cheek without the shaving cream
The razor speed is about the same as a laser beam
It's still vague to me, retrace the path to revenge
The path of tree again, put some hash in the V-Pen
And scribe war once more, we hash the sequence
Grab the surveillance cam, smash it to pieces
Rewindin' my thoughts, after that I blacked out
This black cloud follows me tryna track down
My ruffled whereabouts have stumbled into a trap house
One word to air you out, no more cat and mouse
Look, I crack the black and now the presence of the devil's near
As this world turns and we dwellin' on this fear
So cold, it won't pour a drop out and shed a tear
So we force a war in these blocks now with the metal gear
Yeah!

My orange box-cutter make the world go round
(Orange boxcutter, that New York shit)
My orange box-cutter make the world go round
(That New York shit)
I step in the game and then I carve my nitch
You'll neva forget the name cause the arm is swift
It feels like yesterday you just got your starter kit
Then you stepped on 'kane and became narcissist
Small fish in a sess' pool where sharks swim
And soon as they assess you, they'll rip apart your limbs
I'm sharp as Gemstars, and that Automa on yo wrist
Will turn you into a martyr, get water marked with Tims
You think I'm tearing the rugs up on some carpenter shit?
I'm not the one to spar with, this guillotine I'll scar your skin
Hit you comin' back around like the karma bitch
One flick of the arm and wrist, hope yo arm is thick
Dawg

My orange box-cutter make the world go round
(Orange boxcutter, that New York shit)
My orange box-cutter make the world go round
(That New York shit)

Fuck a court case, I ain't got time for horseplay
I left from showin' up in polo shirts wearing war paint
Holdin' an orange shank that I chiseled out of Shawshank
Witness the Lord's grace, boy, this isn't your forte
Actin' like untouchables, it't the image you portrait
A hundred and fifty stitches left initials on your face
Mere mortals, but this is what I was born to do
Inhale clarity, exhale the distorted you
Pollution in the air and goons with rare guns
What the fuck eva happened to shootin' the fair one?
Right? Mistakes is high in daylight noon (?)
So when that raise I fly, feels like deja-vu

My orange box-cutter make the world go round
(Orange boxcutter, that New York shit)
My orange box-cutter make the world go round
(That New York shit)