Gods and Generals 2 - Outerspace, King Syze, Des Devious

My flow cock-d, Des be the meanest

Pulsating beams on the gat leave you spleen-less

Built right in, you don’t hold iron, you lying

But my license to carry stays tucked, why?

Don’t let the clean record fool you

If they eva found out the dirt I’ve done

They’d throw me under the jail

And building of the jail won’t talk

But instead I’m on your block

Twin air brush Glocks claiming all your guap

Me and my ace we done took your place

Blow the kush in your face while you state your case

Disrespectful you know why?

We don’t give a fuck

We a lil outta pocket but I dare you to brush your luck

You betta duck quick cuz the sound of the four/five busting

You running got me love sick

You dumb shit learn the science to the math

Or I let my bitch shake you for an hour & a half

They need to set steady beef free let Koosy out the gate

We need the Hilltop Hustlers back, the Park Side Killaz

Club Fever, the rap we spit bust ya speaker

I’m wit the Gods and Generals throwing up ether

You in the land of the poets, where every man is a motive

A bulldozing the game, not sure if you notice

That Q Dominion is pure focus, raw talent

We balance the beams evenly and face the challenge

We own up to the name, we spit raps spacely

Outta this world, gon' whateva rap take me

And even if Planetary ain’t the best breathing

I leave 'em at loss for words and their chest wheezing

You and your man beefing?

Let me get on the horn

And see how these Voltron niggas will transform

We come so deep;

man they’ll lower the casket

Bury us alive, we look up at the streets cracking

(Chorus) Des Devious

We still Gods of rap, we still Generals

Serial kill the track, we pure criminals

Disrespect straight up, fuck subliminals

Disconnect your neck, you’re so pitiful

Yo, when OS in the building, you need to listen up

This ain’t '94, when will you give it up?

I ain’t gotta freestyle, I ain’t gotta write graph

I’m allowed to like cash, I’m about to write math

WHAT!?!

Hip-Hop is ova, no roots, no culture

Every man fend himself, no troops, no soldiers

Yo Planet and Des these niggas straight violating

I annihilate 'em;

spit it live from the mind of Satan

Eyes erasing, scheming on the next move, eating on the best food

Creaming wit the fresh jewels, stress you, neva the best, who-eva

Pick up a mic, spit precise, your crew severed

You got few skills, claiming like you ill, sounding like Dru Hill

Get thrown in the slew kill, QD Killadel P H I A

2−1 Pow!

We hold it down, we not for games

It’s the Gods and Generals, man we back in the building

We filling the airwaves wit this shit that you feeling

Y’all try to think;

I just write it and rap it

I hear the track and smash it, yeah it’s time for some action

Y’all simulated games, y’all target practice

I sit on the globe, niggas ain’t on my atlas

God forgive me, Lord have mercy

To any mothafucka tryna hurt me

Any Label tryna jerk me, I rap on my terms

Y’all chill on seed level, I’m deeper then earthworms

I’m baiting Satan to a game of chess

Ain’t no debating untill I lay to rest

Yes, I remain the best

Forget talk-to-talk, I scream and shout

The dream is about getting that green and large amounts

We calling you out, yo I headed up the hill

Wit the Lion and the guns that you kicking in my ear fam

(Chorus) Des Devious