Monsterous

M.V.L.L. (ft. Chubbs, Ces, A.B., Cron Hypnostein, and Roy Rukkus) - “Monsterous”
[Emcee(s): Chubbs, Ces, A.B., Cron Hypnostein, and Roy Rukkus]
[Producer(s): Will Tell]

[Intro: Chubbs]
Double-L. Get your Walkman

[Verse 1: Chubbs]
Icepick for the slow leak, pin for the lowly
When it comes to lyrics, straitjackets can’t hold me
Fuck with me, you getting smoked like a dole
Trying to get dough? We’ll peel your wig back slowly
I got the new hit single. You’s a oldie
Your rhymes suck, nigga. Wipe the cum off your goatee
You must be unsure—your arms smell moldy
Feel a Force stronger than Obi-Wan Kenobi
Show me? None of that. Blow me? Some of that
Pass your man the rock, my clique’ll hit him while he’s running back
Piss me off, be ready to change your whole format
Try to pull your stack? Find your face on a floor mat
I’m more fat. You is skinny—you ain’t all that
Punch you in your motherfucking face to feel your jaw crack
Love getting head from your mom—where that whore at?
Still talking shit? Find your ass on the floor flat
Now you want to battle me? Is you joking?
Leave you choking with my hands around your throat (Aaah)
Get the fuck out my face. Here’s a token
Now you can leave now that Big Man has spoken

[Verse 2: Ces]
So you hard? Well, just come on down
You’re the next contestant on Beat Down Clowns
See, foul styles possessed why Ces is blessed
We could take it outside and go TEC for TEC
Disrespect the set and I’ll wet your flesh, so sit
Your ass up in a seat and stretch your neck
Don’t get blast up with the heat—I’m stressed and vexed
Found ass-up in the street, you assessed from the get
Wrecking your vets, penetrate a section and step
It’s time to learn—there’s gonna be a lesson and test
Ask a question and only give a second to guess
Watching for Ces? My nigga, keep Glock in me breath

[Hook: Chubbs]
Cousin, we’re Double-L upon this label. We’re the type to smile
Up in your face and play away before we lay you on the table
You ain’t capable to conquer us. M.V. monsterous
Sorry, cous’. We warned you once you wasn’t able to
It’s M-V-L upon this label. We’re the type
To run your pockets while you’re getting strangled by a cable
You ain’t able to fuck with us. M.V. monsterous
Sorry, cous’. We warned you once you wasn’t capable

[Verse 3: A.B.]
On the low, most niggas want to ride with me
Peep you with a couple chicks who want to slide with me
Want to blaze now—plus, you getting high with me
You acting crazed now? Must really want to die, I see. Y’all niggas
Stay clown, plus I know they hide our chief
With the trey pound, run up in their lab with me
Mad trees, mad D’s, mad keys, mad whips, yo
That’s the whole reason why a nigga got to flip. Keep
A L in my hand. Still, you wonder why I trip
Mad G’s, gats squeeze at a nigga talking shit
That’s the whole reason why a nigga got a fifth
I’m a dog—that the reason why I’m barking at your bitch
Kind of raw—dig a ditch and throw your coffin in and shit
Flip scripts—ain’t no motherfucking talking in this shit
You never was my man—why you really flossing with my clique?
Hater nigga, suck a dick, you little motherfucking bitch

[Verse 4: Cron Hypnostein]
Dark of the heart, thick of the mist, deeper abyss
Grim Reaper of kids. Death sneak up and shit
Tuck your heater, equip, bust meters with this
Fuckers fiending for hits, mainstream and a fifth
Don’t give a fuck about his. Crushing the ribs
Pushing a wig—knuckles on his and nothing on mine
Ain’t busting my mind, don’t give a fuck about getting signed
I got enough on the line and you fronting to ride
Bust one in your pride (Hold that) and touch something inside
Fucks crossing the line, walking in line
Lost in the time. Proportion of mine poor in the mind
Shattered the brain with a dramatical wave

[Verse 5: Roy Rukkus]
Y’all niggas stay acting like you and your fleet matter (What?)
But in a matter of seconds, you won’t even be matter (Nada)
‘Cause we splatter shit, and a nigga like me ain’t having it (Uh uh)
‘Cause I’ll be folding niggas up and locking ‘em in a cabinet (Yeah)
So when I speak, close your mouth and say nothing after it (Shut up)
Barbarian carving my rhymes on a tablet
Neanderthal style (Whoo)—hit ‘em with a bat
In the chest so hard, the flesh ripple through his back
We brainstorm. Y’all niggas are drizzle on the track
Little, his attack sounding like a Skittle on the track
Hard-rock rap niggas get chiseled on the track
Simply go splat. Send a fucking missile through your shack
‘Nough hoes, ‘nough dro, ‘nough dribble on my sack
Getting to that cash. Blizzard do the math, thinking through these black
Lizards in the grass (Huh?). Ripping ‘em in half
Put ‘em in a bag stinking more than ass, deliver to the trash
Diminish you and flash. Hell is gonna take you
Shells is gonna break you, leave your ass dead under the maple tree
Hating me? Everything you say is fucking anal. I’ll have
Your head upon this table. M-V-L upon this label

[Hook: Chubbs]
Cousin, we’re Double-L upon this label. We’re the type to smile
Up in your face and play away before we lay you on the table
You ain’t capable to conquer us. M.V. monsterous
Sorry, cous’. We warned you once you wasn’t able to
It’s M-V-L upon this label. We’re the type
To run your pockets while you’re getting strangled by a cable
You ain’t able to fuck with us. M.V. monsterous
Sorry, cous’. We warned you once you wasn’t capable