Lace Tracks

Kenny Diaz ft. House of Repz (ft. A.L. (All Lyrics) and BEN.Y.) - “Lace Tracks”
[Emcee(s): A.L. (All Lyrics) and BEN.Y. (AKA Benny Blanco)]
[Producer(s): Kenny Diaz]

[Verse 1: A.L. (All Lyrics)]
I keep
A smart mind, feed my brain before I start rhymes
Writing a hit. Dying to quit, I hate my part-time
Life is a test filled with struggle and stress. Bound
To make it to the top ‘cause I hustle the best, inherited
A rich mind, I was born with the sense/cents. Rap players
Get no shine, they just be warming the bench. Spit
The dirtiest rap, you should call me Yuck Mouth. So many
Claim they make hits, but, to me, they really struck out
I got it sewn up—step to us and get your crew laced
My people stay nuts, always grill you with a screwface
My flow’s so hot, I got fans taking debris, melt this
Bitch like a cow, so I’m making it cheese, blow your
Mind when I rhyme like a Glock to your brain. You bum
Niggas stay the same, need a lot to change. You’re frostbit
Had a hot name but you lost it. You forced it
Had a lot of game but you forfeit. You wack
Rappers pulling stunts, now you’re taking a fall. I tele-
-market my rap, I’m always making a call. You’re lightweight
Paper-thin niggas get ripped through. My whole
Mob is on a job like promotion, ready to stick you

[Hook: A.L. (All Lyrics)]
Ayyo
We lace tracks, lyrically raw, so you can taste that
Hit you with more, get you on tour, leave your face slapped
Where the safe at? Give me the dough, don’t even say jack
And if you play wack, you’re getting sprayed where you lay at

[Verse 2: BEN.Y. (AKA Benny Blanco)]
And while you cats
Get cold feet, I caught fee from all four feet
Think it’s all sweet? Get tossed, and it’s hard to floss with no teeth
Cream right give you the green light. Intervene
Get the rapping, dead you in your wet dream. My team be making
Heads fiends before it gets clean. Back when cats
On the West scene never dressed clean, still into wrestling
I paid dues, displayed interludes, slayed dudes
Why I stay rude ‘til it’s played smooth? Ask your prelude
Seen the best of rest, seen the fast cash rack
Keep it bouncing like a bad check, fucking with a half deck
A threat like the Montagues and Capulets
‘Cause U and I ain’t even close in the alphabet. House of Repz
Kill, like, half of it. It’s the cats with the wild connects
You niggas still down collect. I got lyrics
Exceeding the speed limit, only take an L if there’s weed in it
Could tell my life tale in three minutes. I care
For the dream, my pleasures can’t be measured on a triple-beam
Think like a sex fiend: chains, whips, and cream
I flipped the scene at fifteen, making chicks scream
When I reached the tip of their spleen, but I’m keeping it clean
For preteens, and scheme if you keep ‘em on
The three beams, swinging end seams, and it take
The Dream Team to redeem your self-esteem. I count this on
My hands of green, bouncing like a trampoline

[Hook: A.L. (All Lyrics)] (x2)
Ayyo
We lace tracks, lyrically raw, so you can taste that
Hit you with more, get you on tour, leave your face slapped
Where the safe at? Give me the dough, don’t even say jack
And if you play wack, you’re getting sprayed where you lay at

[Verse 3: BEN.Y. (AKA Benny Blanco)]
When I’m
Behind the mic, at least nine dying tonight
And if you live, you’ll be lonelier than Brian McKnight
Divine alike and take the verse to light. I’ma hearse you like
Find a natural bitch, son hermaphrodite. It ain’t even
Worth to write, you’ll never find a burst of light. Ride the hearse
If you’re the first to bite. Uncut like Persian white
Vocals snatch po-po, throw ‘em in chokeholds
Breathe the summer and Sun in at Acapulco
Lowkey ‘til they’re promoting me, but don’t provoke me to go road plea
Flows so raw, you’re trying to smoke me, but hopefully
I spread like potpourri, you’re staying locally, and vocally
I roast whoever close to me—s’how it’s supposed to be
You ain’t compatible, couldn’t batter for collateral
I have it all, I got more style than catalogs, and I ain’t mad
At all, I brung the gat along, so do you players wanna
Brawl or get your babble on? Come on

[Verse 4: A.L. (All Lyrics)]
Yeah, word up, yo, ain’t nothing worse
Than a corrupt jake that wanna fight crime—or, even worse
When a fake snake wants to bite rhymes—that’s why I
Always peep and creep through the night time with
A mind so deep that, when I sleep, I even write rhymes
I enlight minds at a fast rate, heads I castrate
Make your ass shake. Say goodbye—it’s your last date
Already known for hitting plenty domes like a celly phone
You wanna talk? Save that shit for fucking Jenny Jones
House of Repz get the best of ya, kill your messenger
Hit the store, walk out with your register
I cause hysteria, so you ought to run ‘cause, for the funds
My niggas is dumb, they rob you with a water gun
I’m pure as God, but my fury is hard, tough enough
To knock you out and your security squad. I’m curious
God. Yo, why you wait on my fall? I know you’re mad
‘Cause I’m keeping it real, you’re faking it all—or is it because
I still have my niggas in a catering hall? I put
An end to your friend, tell Satan I’ll call. No one is
Breaking me, y’all, or making me stall—in fact, I have the
Whole tats crew just painting your wall—“In memory of
So-and-So,” or whatever you claim. Ain’t nobody
Knowing you, player. I’m deading your game, so quit this
Rap shit, relax, and just grab a spliff. You a
Jehovah Witness, you never had the gift

[Hook: A.L. (All Lyrics)] (x2)
Ayyo
We lace tracks, lyrically raw, so you can taste that
Hit you with more, get you on tour, leave your face slapped
Where the safe at? Give me the dough, don’t even say jack
And if you play wack, you’re getting sprayed where you lay at