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