Artist: Wismen
Album:  Wisemen Arrived
Song:   Tarantula's Web
Typed by: pneumatic

[Intro: Kevlaar 7]
Yo, Fuck that, Fuck yall, Yo, Yo

[Kevlaar 7]
It's raining grenades, My ace I maintain
I gotta gun-brella to pepper magenta and crimson crayola
Though sweaters on the back wall, On that back hall
Payola's over-rated, But an Alex Haley story
And evil's how we make it, Wasted chances, Witnesses glancin
I've been down since finish the stealin, Spendin shit still
It's just mad angles, Tarantula webs, Dismantlin heads
Beds, Niggas layin they not makin, Adjacent from peace, My piece is layin
Contimplatin to grip, From my right hand
Banded rubber money, Just so my seeds aint hungry
Funny how ignorance is linked to dependence
Reflect negative senses and flip em reciprocal
Street genius individuals, Keep clean hands minimal
Spin a tool and see where one slug lands
Lift off my casket pillow and slap yall hands
I'm not ready, Heavy I'm not, Got the globe on my shoulder
Speak cold and the diamonds off my grave roll boulders

[Chorus: Kevlaar 7]
Gun Rule, The wars on cock a tool
Spit a slug and save the sun, Put me in rotation
Detroit, The wars on cock a tool
Spit a slug and save the sun, Put me in rotation

[Kevlaar 7]
It's stormin javelins, A wars unravelin
Trust me you'll imagine, Davelin at the evils
Arsenal outlast you, Cash Rule a man, I'm supernatural
Stash two in the back jew, Draw if you have to
Laugh as I gargle lava, Chase it with vodka
Problems on my back about the size of a continent
Ten black shotties in a cauldron, Mold my problems
Sold these baggies and fed my soldiers their rations
Jakes bangin, I'm runnin like Starks and Juice Stanton
The phantom in denim, Vanish in street shadows
Angles I come from the average nigga runs from
Sun down to sun up, Grindin for the come up
The jungle was thick, I got machetes and whips
Whips on wheels not scars on my back I still feel
It's all real, Stay droppin science for the babies
Speak coal into diamonds, Day dreams to realism
Intentions of rhythms keep you busy while I pillage
Still it's just a heat killer, Intense as my grill is
On the hills I walk, With twelve men following
Spit third world gems, All my niggas stay hollerin

[Chorus 2X]

[Outro: Kevlaar 7]
Gun Rule, Detroit