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88hiphop – a.l. (all) vs. kwest tha madd lad tekst piosenki


88hiphop ft. a.l. (all lyrics) and kwest tha madd lad – “a.l. (all lyrics) vs. kwest tha madd lad”
[emcee(s): a.l. (all lyrics) and kwest tha madd lad]
[producer(s) of instrumental 1: [?]]
[producer(s) of instrumental 2: mr. walt (original instrumental from o.g.c. (originoo gunn clappaz) – “no fear”)]
[additional vocals: kap-er patterson (aka stelf index)]

[intro: kap-er patterson (aka stelf index), kwest tha madd lad, and a.l. (all lyrics)]
kap-er patterson (aka stelf index): aight, yeah, yeah, this is kap-er with the emcee battle, and we got our champion here, kwest, and we got a new challenger, my man a.l. what’s going on, man?
kwest tha madd lad: where you from, man?
a.l. (all lyrics): i’m from brooklyn
kwest tha madd lad: aight, aight
a.l. (all lyrics): new york, representing the house of representatives
kap-er patterson (aka stelf index): let me run down the fight rules here: no cursing. you know, i’ma, i’ma tag y’all in and out. you know, we just gon’ go back-and-forth, have some fun with this, and, um, we gon’ set it off with the challenger, so just jump on in
a.l. (all lyrics): check it out, uh, check it

[verse 1: a.l. (all lyrics)]
don’t let
me dump it. let me pump it. this n-gg- gets
me sick, so i’ma take him out of my stomach
i gotta run ish throughout the whole rap. you n-gg-s know this
is a new rap to hit your back. no more cursing when i’m reversing
my rhymes is in person. never third
when i get on the microphone, peace to words, thirstin howl the iii
now i got the opposition, there’s no compet-tion
it’ll be head collision, accident-pr-ne

[verse 2: kwest tha madd lad]
a.l. best to stay well before he gets a dose
of nyquil ‘cause i k!ll just like michael myers
i bow down, but, nah, never that ‘cause i’m the sire, so
you bow down. how now, by cow, you ‘bout to make me bow down?
how that sound? ludacris. you sticking this?
come on, kid. i’m a lyrical hypnotist. you cannot get with my
fitness. sick off the mental. when it comes to ripping, you know i
do it without the pencil. that’s why your mind is simple

[verse 3: a.l. (all lyrics)]
brother, you’re faking, but what you thinking on your alb-m? nathing
come on with the rocker, it’s the hip hop shocker
got you drunk off of the vodka, it’s the one that rides you like
a helicopter. can’t stop that blade with that
wack–ss, stink, played shirt that you’re rocking
can’t stop it. patterns fatter than a stocking cap
what the h-ll is in your ear or, should i say, in your nose?
when i grab the microphone, your brain froze. who chose

[verse 4: kwest tha madd lad]
come on
son, you’re making racket, but your racket is wack
i don’t see no initials—what kind of jacket is that?
and that sweater? you should know me. i be’s a real go-getter
you’re ‘bout to get shredded just like a head of lettuce. let us begin
the house of representatives? we know
i’ll be clinton, and when they mention it, they catch a veto
because i be the senate. your rhymes? i’ll bend it, take it
spin it, and drew you in half, have half a minute

[verse 5: a.l. (all lyrics)]
back off, you get ebolo. this is polo. oh no, you
h-m-—didn’t mean to say it—but i displayed. emcees get
screamed on. i’m a fiend when it comes to the mic set
catching wreck on the internet, intellect can’t reset
you can’t intercept even if you’re a quarterback. i slaughter raps
can’t stop that when i drop that. it’s the prophet from
the project. can’t stop the logic when i drop it heavy
machete cut you all-soft n-gg-s. come on, i call [?]

[verse 6: kwest tha madd lad]
hey, star, your style is incorrigible. you’re horrible
just like hägar. “doo-doo-doo-doo,” you set off my g-ydar
stay far away from me. you’re best to play for keeps
because you know i stay. when it comes to rhymes, my sh-t be time
whoo, almost cursed. what comes worse? i’m the he-rs-
when it comes to rhymes, you know my stuff burst on nurse
and doctors. i’m ‘bout to rock ya, shock ya just like you stuck your
finger in the socket. i’ll put my hands up in my pocket, nah

[verse 7: a.l. (all lyrics)]
i cut
you off like lumber. after this battle, it be “a.l., can i get
your number? we’ll do a tight track.” can you stop that?
when i drop sh-t on the brain, or should i say the cranium
come on, a.l.’s known to fill up stadium, or should i say
the palladium. cats ain’t on a hype vibe. you might slide
can’t stop this, reside. you better hide
and seek when i freak the technique, off-the-top techniques
you can’t speak. this n-gg-’s not puerto rican—i’m freaking
your mind

[verse 8: kwest tha madd lad]
now i got
the juice to get loose. the stuff that you produce
is boof-boof. your hair must be too full of that mousse because
it’s still [?] what you’re thinking ‘cause i’ve been thinking
i’m ‘bout to take you to the brink of destruction
you know my stuff causes suction, and you be kicking wack flows
your name should be mc vacuum because you suck, you buck
you pressed your luck just like the game show. i’m ‘bout to flame hoes
matter of fact, you know what? bring the next ho up

[verse 9: a.l. (all lyrics)]
come on
that’s dirty—you pollute. girls say that i’m cute
where my hand disappear, make it clear i’m the rapper of the year
yo, you cheers like [?]. i’m advancing, causing
an avalanche. and, hey, yo, somebody call the ambulance. somebody died
can’t reside. the way that i get on is cyanide
death-defying when i’m rising from another
apex. can’t stop this. it’s a.l. i got
so much juice, you n-gg-s know how to shake well
rock it

[verse 10: kwest tha madd lad]
now, everybody knows the man’s bore
but tell me: what the h-ll does a.l. stand for?
a loser? a ludacris? a loud one?
a low one? to try to come against this, you’re defenseless
and down, around your ankles, i’m about to bend you over and spank you
shank you, and then i bet that you’ll say, “thank you”
i’ll roll over just like a tank do in tiananmen square
you try to test the champion? come on, why you’re there?

[verse 11: a.l. (all lyrics)]
and you think you’re bad? you’re madd, lad. come on, you blab
put you in a bag, you punk–ss… hmm, didn’t mean
to curse in. all, i’m reversing my rhyming
on timing when i’m climbing off the rocky
ill when i got sk!lls. you need to, hmm, chill ‘cause
i’ll fill your head with so much overdosing, you’ll be toasting. i’ll be
roasting just like barbeque. brother, you
in the grill, you need to chill. it’s the a.l. sk!lls, yo

[verse 12: kwest tha madd lad]
let you know
that i reach every time that i speak. i’ll leave you
with more b-mps than them two you got up on your cheek. your stuff
is weak and cannot even freak because you know
this kid with a slim physique will make you leak in the knees
please. emcees i bleed and freeze down to thirty-two
degrees. you’re best to get these ‘cause you can’t none of ‘em
emcees? i like some of ‘em but not you. that’s why
i got the spot you got. you’re sneezing like, “achoo!”

[verse 13: a.l. (all lyrics)]
yo, yo, don’t let me
strike this. you’ll turn ill like hepat-tis
when i grab this, i sandwich like beef, and, when i’m releasing
my telekinesis makes sh-t freezing. who you pleasing?
who you skeezing? (that’s what i want, yo, these rings). change the seasons. strange when i
[?], i came g-ssed like you
when i’m bored, i p-ss you. what the h-ll do you do? you went
wood. could? you wish you could make five mics
when i strike hype, i’m tougher than dyk-s when i light riot
mic device

[verse 14: kwest tha madd lad]
you talk
about your mouth, son, about i had an alb-m, but how come
i had an alb-m and you’re without one? i doubt, son
that you could even make it. your stuff is naked. you said i was
standing on my cover uncovered, but i’m still the brother that
gets them girls under covers to prove that i’m a super lover
like casanova. that microphone you’re speaking into? p-ss it over
your -ss is over. sober, you be just a soldier
and [?] you’re empty

[verse 15: a.l. (all lyrics)]
can’t stop this. you want beef, but i became a vegetarian
siberian making you quiet like a librarian
old cesarean. suit when i grab the microphone
i stomp you with boots. who do you shoot? not me
‘cause i’m clever whenever i endeavor, heads are severed—better
off of the shoulder. i don’t need to just brag and boast
yes, i toast this as the best emcee for the year
thick emcee a.l., and that madd lad gon’ fear

[verse 16: kwest tha madd lad]
yo, you
smell something stinking? it must be him with a sloppy boof flow
you’re talking ‘bout you’re popping culo? you’re papi chulo (thanks!)
excuse me, papi culo. meant to say you’re wack
but when it comes to rhyme, you know i never it back. not faking
jacks, i’m breaking tracks, i’m breaking backs until the maximum
i’m maxing some while i’m taxing them just like the irs
i am kwest, and who are you? you be just booty
that’s why, when it comes to rhymes, i spin your head like girls in juvie

[verse 17: a.l. (all lyrics)]
you can’t survive. come on, you’re stepping to me. you’re like a buck
twenty-five (no doubt!). when it comes to this, you can’t survive. i revive
your whole brain like a battery. you battling me? come on, that’s flattery
i’m from another galaxy. it’s a tragedy
tragic course. when i get on the microphone, i enforce
toss you like a frisbee. who’s the rapper that don’t have the risky?
whiskey you must have been drinking. who you thinking?
i’ll dead you like lincoln. you stinking. yo, i’ll turn you pink and
when i…

[verse 18: kwest tha madd lad]
you’re coming off you head with that simple racket
i got to blind myself because you’re wearing that wrinkled jacket, and it’s
too bright for me to even look in your direction
i give you an infection, then i calls for protection
station identification: about to rip the station
where i weigh a buck twenty-five, but i bet you that money’s live
and sonny’s jive that he’s kicking ain’t any good like chicken
that his moms be baking. that’s why i got you shaking and quaking

[outro: kap-er patterson (aka stelf index)]
ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding!

# 88hiphop

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