Hard Boiled (Sabotatori)

Jake the Fury:

I'm the jammed shot that clogs the Glock
in the hands of a cop shooting at a black block
I'm the explosion that scars like Sloth
I'm the short circuit that shuts down the electroshock
A saint with a halo of smog
I'm a piece of shit, a Ban Dog
I don't give a damn about hip-hop
as long as I'm the evil for the music authority
as long as I go to concerts and see the zeros rap
now I get it
I burn my hands on your record
it's like touching a cross for the Antichrist
for you, I'm too fast
if I've already stopped talking before your ear hears the voice
I'm so quick I outpace my brain
I’m twice the age of my twin
bro, I got the heavy verse, I'm a guard dog
I dumb down the crowds like the church.
I throw explosive rhymes
against the nerd who memorizes rhymes for the quiz
you can have the best champion,
the best production,
but you can't have Boy George doing action films
I don't sell scams because
included in my fee
I serve napalm drinks dressed as a sommelier
illuminated in the flow by mystical visions
every time I touch the mic I receive the stigmata
I send entire crowds into a wild trance
their heads spin twenty-four hours like Le Mans
the circulation slows, their backs tremble
I'm the fucking virus that’s entered your system.

Chorus (x2):
I come for the sabotage
killer language
brain immune to washing, lyrical tracking
we're assassins on the beats and bass
collapses if you go against my syntax

The Squinter:

I broadcast from the city where acid rains, gray
cold wind like the gaze of the mister in the overcoat
I have transcendent verses that break your trendy new Fendi glasses
feel rhymes fresher than the blood of Johnny Lambs
that gets swapped out every year when he's high on dope
I withstand blows more than ceramic nostrils
I'm the tanning bed that exposes your plastic face
the subliminal porn sequence in the Christmas cartoon
lethal frequency that damages your brain from the cell phone
a gaping wound
like someone waking up without kidneys and spleen on a deserted beach
with Fame in combination
the mix of coke and stuff in the injection of the junkie dying at the station
the explicit statement that for the battle you’re not able
I'm the fixed eleven on the loaded dice
I’ve been rapping since the zarre put on their first Buffalo
since they caught the first pedophile priest
my verse is a dose weighed on the Tanita
drug of the future that hasn't been synthesized yet
Paolino brings the sound war,
I pull the shadow from the ground to the latest rappers
eye like a Chinese berry
mc that hits you like MDMA I smash you like a DC9 caliber of my rap
I spit with the mic like a bayonet
your CD is full of shit tracks like a truckload
The Squinter is the name of the guy who in a minute made it clear
that you're fucked, done, when I spit rhymes and bless the mic.