Ben-Real "STEVE HAWKINGS" (feat. a robot voice)
Channel: Ben-Real da Peacekeepa
Date: 2017-08-17

To the untrained ear these are random stanzas
To the fans it’s a thrill and extravaganza
Flows sway to and fro cause I got the answer
I could make Steve Hawkings throw both his hands up…
Crip-walking to the stage to perform standup
And what?

I got them tones…
Like a big bodied mammy in the Mississippi Delta 
humming gospel songs
Mutabaruka shotta poems
Leaving break beats broke
Like they last dollar gone
(gone)
And the wicked don’t like it
But dem can kick rocks with wet feet
Slip
Fall on they face
Then swallow stones
I got the marrow for yo hollow bones
So if you’re hybridized, go on
And get some Coppertone
You have entered to a hotter zone
Sun shine all seasons
Summer this and summer that’ll
Spring up but I don’t fall even
In the coldest winter,
My soul is a glowing ember
That point the way with a golden finger
That don’t hold splinters

Like Shredder’s traps 
The blocks I used to cruise was the sewer
And them ninjas quick to shell ya’ back
So gnarly
So I see through these toy soldiers
GI Joe hardly
So Barbie
Heart weak scarred regularly
I’m Bob Marley times Mobb Deep 
No helmet on a Harley
In the fast lane outside your map’s range
Your brain be lame
Comatose and complacent
Fake pimps is just gimps in the Rap City basement
I’m a genius in the bottle
Boah
Please get it twisted
Take it, shake it first
Crowds shower when I spit it
My power has no limit spinning on the highest pennant
In a seven wheeler spaceship
Mimics look distant
They
Scarecrow minis
In the
Field
 Of my vision
Put a
Blindfold on me
Bet a dollar I could hit ‘em
Leave ‘em looking like they licking lemons
Superceding superstition
Speaking from the heart so I bleed when I’m spitting
Suckas sopping up the drippings cause they biscuit is dry
Long faces looking like they bottom lip is a tie
Tuck it in like Red on the porch
Heads’ll be scorched
Cause they rhymes ain’t kosher like they etched ‘em in pork
I’m a supersoldier spliced with a regular dork
I King Leopold coons, behead ‘em for sport
I been a rebel since slave ships settled at ports
While niggas mythically deliver like the legend of stork
Trap rappers all done, poke their chests with a fork
Bringing pain to their brothers while they pleasure the courts
Rappity rap rappers simply beg to retort
Spitting song length verses but their measurements short
Hell hounds yelp from my heavenly force
I murdered hip-hop, spit and resurrected the corpse
With the Breath of Life
Blessed ancestral rites
Im Dateline to fake lines molesting mics
The black Chris Hansen
Dark Knight with the sharp scripts lancing
I know the art of war…
You’d make a dandy canvass
I serve herbs like Omarion teamed with Sampras
Put emcees on the list with the whales and pandas
Bald eagles with bad weaves chant my anthems
Every bar’s Rocky Dennis, but the hook’s handsome
To the untrained ear these are random stanzas
To the fans it’s a thrill and extravaganza
To the haters these are handcuffs, no Miranda
Flows sway to and fro, cause I got the answer
I could make Steve Hawkings throw both his hands up…
Crip-walking to the stage to perform standup
And what?
To the untrained ear these are random stanzas
To the fans it’s a thrill and extravaganza
To the haters these are handcuffs, no Miranda
Flows sway to and fro, cause I got the answer
I could make Steve Hawkings throw both his hands up…
Crip-walking to the stage to perform standup
And what?