[Verse 1: Jolly Rotton]
MCs try to catch up, they're out of breath
While fiends walk in the footprints that strangers tread
Where your head about times and we're staying fresh
Your mates say that you're dope but you're paying them
So fuck off, fuck off cause your bars are shit
My bars eclipse, equipped with an armoured clique
Hard as bricks in a sharps bin, starting shit
Artist flicking their canvas by Carson spit"
Half eclipse of the sun way over the rainbow
Mask sit stay lowkey but my mates know
Half wit, dragging my bitch by her halo
Disapprove wait till she morphs when her face goes
Ain't known for my sanity or staying nice
Paranoid; get close and I'll have to take your life
Because its dog eat dog in exchange for vice
Take advice, watch your friends savour the taste of knives
[Chorus: Syntax Junkies]
Step back, it's Syntax on the death rap
Nod your heads back till your motherfucking neck snaps
Step back, got the Junkies on a fresh track
'Cause we on point like a motherfucking meth bag
Step back, it's Syntax on the death rap
Nod your heads back till your motherfucking neck snaps
Step back, got the Junkies on a fresh track
'Cause we on point like a motherfucking meth bag
[Verse 2: NERVE]
Step back or you'll be next to get straight smashed
Blessed wack and bet you Mesc will get your face axed
Next lad to test, Jolly Rotten gets his brains smashed
Spektr on the set evidently getting brains attached
Aus rappers couldn't make a mark on their tracks
So they crafted the track marks on their arm with a jab
You're just another relapse away from starting to rap
I'm making art with a pen and pad as sharp an axe
But marketing facts is hard cause the market is crap
You're starving for that, you would rather harbour the wack
I go bananas because I'm harnessing the craft of the gab
And laughing as you try embarking on the path for the cash
Because its Syntax, get you wig taxed
Stick it in a bin bag, flick a lit match, incinerate a cat
This is king rap
Listen to militants kill caps
With unlimited empirical skill and some ill crap
[Verse 3: Spekter]
Make you step back till your legs snap
Coat a prozzie in some fresh gas
Throw the burning body in a meth lab, you get that?
This is death rap, not a chess match
Flex wack, get a pen stabbed though your chest lad
Blessed crack spinners get strapped to the bed frame
Curse words in a burnt church with my dead mates
Jet straight to the morgue blazed in a Corvette
Spent days with a corpse tasting it's raw flesh
Raping a whores neck, chained to the floor
Drenched
Face full of whores, sweat bullets till we're all dead
Scrawl text with a shark bite on my minds eye
Carve my enemies names into warheads
Half life never leaves, wait till withdrawal sets
Starlight weaponry, aim for the doorsteps
Braised for the fall lead, hate be a swords' edge
Forced fed energy, straight to your cortex
[Chorus: Syntax Junkies]
Step back, it's Syntax on the death rap
Nod your heads back till your motherfucking neck snaps
Step back, got the Junkies on a fresh track
'Cause we on point like a motherfucking meth bag
Step back, it's Syntax on the death rap
Nod your heads back till your motherfucking neck snaps
Step back, got the Junkies on a fresh track
'Cause we on point like a motherfucking meth bag
[Verse 4: Mesc]
Step back or I'll start to speak
And when it comes to words don't spar with me
Hardened speech, bars like an armoured fleet
My punch lines to the point like a starving fiend
But my art is free and this shit is a drug
So you don't need to get high if you listen to us
Wishing for love, swimming in a river of lust
Where the only thing that matters is a different fuck
I live in a rut and I only wanna dig deeper
The slim creature, waiting on the Grim Reaper
The shit speaker waiting for the big feature
The script teacher, man school kids need yah
Yeah, well I need you as much as the next guy
But these fresh rhymes are gonna give me the best life
And I'm dead right, and I'd die for this
And on my death bed I will recite the script
[Chorus: Syntax Junkies]
Step back, it's Syntax on the death rap
Nod your heads back till your motherfucking neck snaps
Step back, got the Junkies on a fresh track
'Cause we on point like a motherfucking meth bag
Step back, it's Syntax on the death rap
Nod your heads back till your motherfucking neck snaps
Step back, got the Junkies on a fresh track
'Cause we on point like a motherfucking meth bag
