Show Lyrics

Tunnel Rats - Southern Brutality
(from the album Underground Rise)
© copyright B. Arriaga. C. Cemple, S. Myers, R. Hylton, J.Petty

Verse 1-Dok
I got probable cause to suspect you of probable flaws
To protect your plausible loss I expect your possible pause
And because of that my attack cause damage more costly to yours
Just a fraction stop in action your life is crakin for sure
Now I got, things on my mind 12 years of rhyming combined
Subjects of all kinds
12 years in the grind runnin routes
No doubt inlined
neva left behind never was signed
neva out of contention
neva out of contention
neva mention the way my tension unwinds
I been thru the stage is ready to prove and show
Who got dough?
I’ll bench you
Compadre or foe I still gots to quench you
When I’m done your madre wont clench you
You’ll pray for God to ascend you
Your crew cant defend you
Aint got a chance but still pretend to
I recommend you watch where you lean when you dream
Cause it’s what’s not seen that puts an end to your dream
That’s me
I’m there when you breathe
I only care how you leave
When you came in I was aimin’
Now you’re changin’ beliefs

[Big Rec]
Aww man it’s a state of emergency/ peep what occurred to me when I heard this beat yearning to freak/ thunderous sounds abound/ astounding these clowns/ confounding the towns from the underground burning the streets/ rhythmic apostle/ rip philosophical folding these fakes into fossils/ colossal/hostile with the wordplay/ do whatever it is The Word say/ coming from that M-A-double/ S-to the REALITY test, you will end up in trouble/ rep Christ, blatant or subtle/ the life is the ministry/ burst industry bubbles the underground infantry/ [seeks change] wherever we go/ [leak flame] Rec, Dok, Ne’Go/ nobody’s equal/ [reclaim] streets for the people/ peep through the peephole/ keep to the vision that we know/ easily puttin’ it down for the cause/ still speak life even though I got flaws/ victorious never counting the loss/ notorious for causin’ lockjaw/ got cats buggin’ out after awe of the raw/ skill/ displayed in the midst of the real/ express truth to influence youth goin’ on the right path/ man I still got one question to ask/ in REALITY how many people wanna run up on the MASS?/ graduated top of the class/ got my Master’s in “Identity” to assure we all last/ all enemies fall off/ words penetrate like the force of a double-barrel sawed-off/ thrown like a cocktail malutoff/ plans to retaliate might as well be called off

In my tote pad I carry a note pad with a broken vocab/ packin’ it like a nomad, steadily rockin’ a low sag with Tims/ loosely laced and sun-dried/ oversized hoody placed overhead with a red head tie/ to get by I had to put aside my sky-high means/ snatched out of my dreams at 6:19/ man, it was a fine dream I was in, dreamin’ that I was in/ my own Benz, balled out sick on chrome rims/ cruisin’, I was independent usin’ my own ends, choosin’ my own trans, losin’ my problems, coolin’, and then that truth bust through because the train was movin’/ then I was an iron cowboy ridin’ the martyr/ 30 minutes of fame, writin’ like a fire starter/ at nine, I was at work, same pay, though I’m workin’ harder/ than the next man, part of it my neck tan darker/ I’m all browned out runnin’ that 40 hour route/ funny how money runnin’ out cuz tax is a hungry mouth to feed/ my last resort might be to sell or smoke weed/

I got a way with words/ captivate spectators when I play with words/ spit flames mixing with nouns and verbs/ bringing the heat/ beat up the beat till it's crying bout how it hurts/ got to fulfill the urge to kill/ blessed with the skill to build the real/ never my will but it's all or nil/ stay sharp/ cause I'm polished by steel and man I'm fatally ill/ coming up had plans to blow/ screaming fans demanding more/ feenin’ like a kid in a candy store/ still trade blows with the man below and the cats who can't stand my flow/ but the fact remains in a’int about/ me and my name/ the props and fame/ the bills and the change/ the plant and the flame/it's all vain if I a’int true to myself and the God that I claim

You can’t make a lyrical omelet without crackin a couple egg heads
It led to severin’ sets of dreds, eyes wide when layed in bed
Weigh the, evidence immense flow commence with Selah
Heard them brathas say ah… Whoa Jah, Whoa Jah
Come give us some poetry but don’t be overly Av-van- gaur
Barely invited to Barbeque, wont Argue wit you
If you find a betta representa than this, hidden virtue mysterious, Revolutionist
See I don’t want to rap about the same stuff everybody rap about
Thinking why you open your big mouth, again?
Atempt to put page to pen thought to book rhyme to hook and
Look at the click flip a rap ryhm sick its
Mr propaganda slam a rappa move a nation
Brovas bail, flow in Jail, Im that life Emancipation
An Ultimate weirdo hear flow wonderin’ where’d your ear go
Here go thae last wit um give worship God-isms