Featuring Takktics [Intro: Takktic] Yo yo. What's up this is Takktics universal soldier Keeping it jiggy for the S O Cs Year two G bioknights regin supreme What's up y'all we's about to get hardcore Re re re reactive armor you know what I'm saying
[Takktics] It's like a M 1 tank I rip through your sound banks I to pranks get ruthless like a long shank Punks want coins it they don't give thanks to Dragon dog, with high ranks I am a pirate, no a pilot, the battleship With ill cybernetics shit, on a sci-fi tip Strictly hype when I bite a mic I bring the sixs, the oh, the eight to the battle hype It's Takktics, tactical, ill-dramitical, radical Coming with a fist full of spittin' bull It's ill flow for the elements 608 soldiers bring it on, report to the redgiment Da shit is evident, we never hesitant We drill you like a surgen Take you for your garments and your gumption What the fucks your function? (We got no flows, no hip hop style, no conjunction)
[Chorus: Dark Shade] First things first y'all, bring it over here (over here) When we appear, we putting rhymes in your ear What if we put on top of bass and a snare This years its got to be loud and clear
[Dark Shade] Prepare for combat like the F-14 tomcat Put the bombs in the tracks when I react and thats that Peep the stats, I'm runnin' through your system like a fax The toungue is the axe so sharpen up all of them weak raps I'm storming buildings like Purvian commandos Mad flows permit me to hit targets quicker than arrows The specialist in these rhyme sciences aka the iron fist that strikes Swift I execute the task of rhyme designing with perfect timing Electrifying like bolts of lightning when I'm rhyming See, weak delivieries need to be put on freeze like salaries or athletes With injuries I maintain my, position in the game (game) I'm leaving stains on people's brains, so they remember the name (name) The Dark Shade is running with the Shades of Culture unit (And ayo, we constant with the movements like fluid)
[Chorus]
[Revolution] Liek tactics in Desert Storm I be the undead soldier I thought I fucking told ya got a space between your shoulder Get crushed by rolling boulders On the mics, and the beats, and the streets set the scene for me to cut Out you spleen This rap court is hardcore, twisting backs An ex-con of poultry(?), eating those chickenheads like snacks Spit out the bones and begin to twist cones To relax with the dread in the 608 zone You're getting kicked in the balls like Pele's crew It's time to get rude, I'm leaving all of them unglued Falling apart at the seams, and it seems you got pipedreams Put down the mic and start turning cream Into butter, don't stutter or end in the rap gutter Or go find yourself another managerial staff DOn't laugh, find a new crew Write some fresh lyrics or you're through
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