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Sa-Roc: Break The Bank (remix) Schoolboy Q


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I’ll bet it’s like I never left. The literary specialist. Weaving rap hymns with gems and heavy metals-megadeath. Phantom of black opera. Random acts of macabre, verbally assassinate your whole posse without a second breath. That’s why my style is copied word for word by rhyme stenographers. Better known in the streets as biters, swagger jackers, followers. Im leading these rappers out the underground like Araminta, not only will I defy your whole movement but I’ll abolish it. I’m Saracen, the Don of the swarthy arts of the novelist. My stories got you wrapped up and swaddled in my narrative. Now If you with me you hear me, my haters secretly fear me, they mad cuz they have to pull out their Merriam Websters to feel me.Im an untouchable class, I started from the bottom. now my dark matter got me yelling I’m black God over serato…Y’all may call it disrespectful, I call it the motto. Yo, I think this joint is finna be a problem. For Real.

Hook:
Riding in my spaceship
Black on black paint kit
Came from that dirt now I’m brushing off these wing tips
Ankh on my gold chain
Spark up my propane
Blowing up on tracks now the world know my first name.
Roc gon win this year
Shouts out to my G squad
Circ 7 draped on the chest plate that piece hard.
God hop gon break banks
Bomb flows and armed tanks
Eff fame my family all stars

The beat knock and temperatures drop 20 degrees. Spit a brick and watch you and your clique suddenly freeze. This a Cold War, from Russia with love, the Marxist mc. Rule with an iron hand, no democracy please. I am Tupac Amaru, handle you like a hammer do. Beat you into submission while I’m Incan my decrees. Implant in your brain tissue like neurological seeds. Then observe my bars proliferate like a tragic disease. In real life I’m careful, always have to play it straight. In rap life I’m rogue, got mutant strains in my DNA. I’m Crossing out the strongest opponents off of your roster. Now them bammas is x-men, I’m the magneto of 808s. Shining on the planet, mic command is rather comet like. Know I’m bout to blow I struck the match and lit the dynamite. Dressed fresh to death, my fashion game is iconic like. Not death ninja Def call it kryptochronoconolite.

Hook:
Riding in my spaceship
Black on black paint kit
Came from that dirt now I’m brushing off these wing tips
Ankh on my gold chain
Spark up my propane
Blowing up on tracks now the world know my first name.
Roc gon win this year
Shouts out to my G squad
Circ 7 draped on the chest plate that piece hard.
God hop gon break banks
Bomb flows and armed tanks
Eff fame my family all stars

My Pressure like a million tons of earth on a rock o’ coal. Turn you to a diamond or crush your spirits from the flattened soil. known to be heavy as widows hearts after the funeral. Flipping letters into mathematics-get it? Roman numerals. Acidic on your self esteem I’m eating thru your confidence. Play with fire and get burned that’s termed a human consequence. Colleagues give me cold shoulders, saying I ain’t blaze enough, how come I’m warming up the vowels and heating thru these consonants? Monster shit, tear a freaking hole thru your esophagus…then body bag and watch u decompose in your sarcophagus. I’m possibly the opposite of over half of the populous. If this a food chain, u bout to see how ravenous the top can get. I’m the queen of every cliff and ravine out here in this jungle, Get in beast mode and Marshawn every cat on your squad. Them hyenas waiting to strip my house clean after I fumble, but my faith stay in the Roc, run the gold straight down the yard.

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Written by Sa-Roc

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