Sofa King by The 3rd Kind Lyrics
[Prod. by Danger Mouse]
[Verse 1: Jakk The Rhymer]
Passionless rappers get casketed with no remorse
Was holding my spot until after it, show them off
Sworn by your sword, behind them a trail of slain amateurs
The pen packed with coke and cannabis when he handle script
The rhetoric reflects off they teaching, they probably
Underrating, no, they the problem they region
Season the spoken word that's the kind elevated
From dope to complex, from quotes and context
With an [?] ridged flow
So, my shit's designed to stretch check my
Lines and text be like nines and techs
F airplay The Kind get divine respect
Said it took some time crafting this God's gift
Roller-coaster ride, emergency break to train wreck
Uh, but from that emerged greatness
Attention was well underpaid like a blank check
They base steps off history's past tracks
They wonder how we make leaps and bounds without looking back
Bound to be the greatest we studied from the best of them
You must be irrelevant to question his intelligence
We lift off, rip raw, best acknowledge he's been deaf to you and yours
More sleepy hollow than hollow tips
Come on joe, you've really got to be kidding
Waiting to blow up, we giving them aneurysms
Quit with the remedies and rhythms and the writtens
I be kicking, this lyrical ammunition
[Verse 2: Capital STEEZ]
Yo peep the rhyme, used to do this in the leisure time
Read the fine print I redefine writing easy lines
First amendment lethal coerce of pennmanship
With or without a pen I proceed to exert my excellence
I'm excelling in more rhymes than rugged raps
Without holding a duffle bag or busting caps
You fronting man, I'ma do it til my lungs collapse
And blow way ahead of my time, Tunguska blast
You really thinking you ahead of me dude my compe-
-tition was dead before I stepped in the booth
If there was some competition excuse them from condescending
But I have been kinda setting some tension for my contenders
At least what's left of them
Cause many men have been turned into excrement
Huh, regurgitate rappers
Ain't just an amateur if you worthy of battling
I'm crossing off names with an asterisk
The mic check is like a vise-grip to grab your limb
I give a much obliged for the word play
Along with a bag of ice and a first aid
Won't believe he's underage and he's that ill
But you will surprised by the range of this cat's skill
Come on homie get a clue
Spitting a written [?] indivual
Showing of what my pen will do would get rid of you
5 words "I am so fucking lyrical"
[Verse 1: Jakk The Rhymer]
Passionless rappers get casketed with no remorse
Was holding my spot until after it, show them off
Sworn by your sword, behind them a trail of slain amateurs
The pen packed with coke and cannabis when he handle script
The rhetoric reflects off they teaching, they probably
Underrating, no, they the problem they region
Season the spoken word that's the kind elevated
From dope to complex, from quotes and context
With an [?] ridged flow
So, my shit's designed to stretch check my
Lines and text be like nines and techs
F airplay The Kind get divine respect
Said it took some time crafting this God's gift
Roller-coaster ride, emergency break to train wreck
Uh, but from that emerged greatness
Attention was well underpaid like a blank check
They base steps off history's past tracks
They wonder how we make leaps and bounds without looking back
Bound to be the greatest we studied from the best of them
You must be irrelevant to question his intelligence
We lift off, rip raw, best acknowledge he's been deaf to you and yours
More sleepy hollow than hollow tips
Come on joe, you've really got to be kidding
Waiting to blow up, we giving them aneurysms
Quit with the remedies and rhythms and the writtens
I be kicking, this lyrical ammunition
[Verse 2: Capital STEEZ]
Yo peep the rhyme, used to do this in the leisure time
Read the fine print I redefine writing easy lines
First amendment lethal coerce of pennmanship
With or without a pen I proceed to exert my excellence
I'm excelling in more rhymes than rugged raps
Without holding a duffle bag or busting caps
You fronting man, I'ma do it til my lungs collapse
And blow way ahead of my time, Tunguska blast
You really thinking you ahead of me dude my compe-
-tition was dead before I stepped in the booth
If there was some competition excuse them from condescending
But I have been kinda setting some tension for my contenders
At least what's left of them
Cause many men have been turned into excrement
Huh, regurgitate rappers
Ain't just an amateur if you worthy of battling
I'm crossing off names with an asterisk
The mic check is like a vise-grip to grab your limb
I give a much obliged for the word play
Along with a bag of ice and a first aid
Won't believe he's underage and he's that ill
But you will surprised by the range of this cat's skill
Come on homie get a clue
Spitting a written [?] indivual
Showing of what my pen will do would get rid of you
5 words "I am so fucking lyrical"