Hard to Kill

[Turntablism]
"As I come back"
"Vents One"
"As I come back"

[Verse 1]
Word 'em up yo
Hard to breathe and hard to chill
The balaclava mask appeal
Eighty-nine pop loud, ghetto blast the fill
I'm Seagal, Hard To Kill
Marked for death, whatever bastard I miss
The karma will get 'em, cause-and-effect, had to let em' roast
Get 'em close and hit em' with a fucking holy ghost
I left battle rap alone
Stuck to savaging the machine, chew and laugh on the bone
Shit br kinda nuts when I fucks with the top shelf
"Mr. Trials" getting down with your bad self
Zapatista, fuck the police yah
Take the power back, rhymes ell' beat yah
To death, Koresh, Waco, Tex
Phone tap or task force, ain't no less
Raised around wolves, don't take no mess
Born to bleed, designed for death but hard to kill

[Turntablism]
"As I come back"
"Vents One"
"As I come back"

[Hook]
So where we at?
We've come to a terrible place
Paranoid, clinical, unbearable case
Deep in the third rhyme medical waste
I reign terror, six dead - federal state
And who you be? Vents One, you knew me
Low-key, go to work like Kool Moe Dee
Need a little bit of land so I could get free
Grow my own shit then chill and stay hard to kill

[Verse 2]
Check it out, yo
Ayy, yeah, ayy
Killing a terrible thing to waste, post haste
But a rock won't take the style, we killing the rock with state of art
Que sera, you better pray to Jah
Allah, Krishna, Koresh and the Pagan's star
I'm the primitive man, lay brick where the pyramids stand
In the great southern land
Where I roam, prone to outbursts so take my stain with a bad habit
Fuck Fred Durst, we Megadeth, rust in peace, it's the ones deceased
Re-born then released to rise in the East
The sun of a thousand mad men on May The First, survive caesarean birth
Residing in material, rank and serial number
Born with a barcode implanted in my brain
Torture lies authorised by the law, but I foresaw your demise
Hard to kill

[Turntablism]
"As I come back"
"Vents One"
"As I come back"

[Hook]
So where we at?
We've come to a terrible place
Paranoid, clinical, unbearable case
Deep in the third rhyme medical waste
I reign terror, six dead - federal state
And who you be? Vents One, you knew me
Low-key, go to work like Kool Moe Dee
Need a little bit of land so I could get free
Grow my own shit then chill and stay hard to kill