Nino Bless – The Watchmen f. Cambatta, Styles P & Crooked I

blame it on Shake January 14, 2013

Elite provides the soundscape to the latest banger off Nino Bless’ upcoming project, R.O.A.M. 2 (The Greater Fool). Lyrics after the jump. #2DopePremiere

[Verse 1: Cambatta]
Another posse cut,
I’m the cocky fuck,
That no one knows that fucked, the roster up,
Then you spark a blunt & hear a God amongst
Men-nonite (Men or Knight)
, Christ on cross with a pen to write,
My ink blood, I’m penning life ‘til I’m heaven’s height
Do CID, And dream a dream so lucid
I’ll travel back in time before you lived
Threaten your father a day before shooting you in
And make him fuck your mom to my music, like ‘Batta’s that new shit
I’m opposite Newton, I’m Scottie on Ewing
My shottie so spoiled, B-B-BRAT! I’m shooting,
Fornicate a lot, I’ll record a rape and watch,
While freebasing a quarter eight of rock, I’m stupid
Recognize patterns mind, Seven times Saturn wide
1/1 suicides, genocide, recognize
I forever shine so bright, that I’m wrecking eyes
Your retina’s blind like Helen’s eyes
I’m sitting on the porch with my sociopathic ass
Liquor by the quart, and a O of that Cali grass
This shit is like a fort, I’m a soldier that battles tracks
Not a sacrificial lamb of that battle in Iran
I ain’t chattel, I am cam
The lower case version
Still smoking dro, even though I ain’t working
Fuck a vote ballot, I’m stuck in my home rapping
‘Till the flow is so dope I give Oprah a coke habit

[Verse 2: Styles P.]
You fucking with the reaper mothafucka,
I slice ya face like it was pizza mothafucka,
.44 Magnum decease a mothafucka
Put’em on a t-shirt, rest in peace the mothafucka,
Faces on a mural, I fry’em quicker than a churro,
Carve my name in his chest like Zoro
It ain’t a Z it’s a P though,
I’m a shooter like Türkoğlu, Hedo (heater)
Throwing up the D sign looking like a 3 though,
Throwing up the B sign looking like a 3 though,
6 niggas dead souls float by the weed smoke,
I ain’t the nigga you try to act like a G-Folk
All these rappers on this hardcore shit,
I ain’t the nigga to play Hardball with,
Yeah I was pitching, but it was never on the mound
I grab the strap and lay whoever on the ground,
Handcuffs, duct tape, never make a sound,
Your brain is fragile like it never take a round
It goes BLAP! then lights out,
Headcrack, no dice out,
Your man was talking hardcore shit, broke right out,
Night brings the wolves out, And wolves bring the knifes out,
The shit go like that, my handgun is a whore ‘cause she blow like that

[Verse 3: Nino Bless]
Unleash the beast from inside
I’m DMT for you writers
This is as easy as a target 3-feet from a sniper
Like, here’s why you won’t see me on TV
After I spit, they said he’s a alien, I’d B(e), ET of the cypher,
I, can’t be defeated despite the media’s vices
I’m a tyrant spliced with Jesus & Leonidas’ features
I just, seem so righteous
My soul’s in flight like Vegeta
It’s the “Takeover” fueling Nas while I’m writing this “Ether”
That god-sent type, archetype
I bark and bite, I’m that Marquez right, TAKE HEED
My marketing hype, bars, don’t try to hate, please
Look, ya wanna hear Bless so bad that you’ll fake sneeze
Lately, this Ape’s on a track rape spree
Taking me out’s like trying to get DMX on a Drake Beat
Speaking of Drake, here’s some shit for the ladies
To my ex: I hope she’s bit by a pit with some rabies
Just kidding I’m gravy, Bless is fulfilled inside
With will survived, I built and thrived & still arrived
Feel the rise of the realest
I, will come thru ill advised while you bumping Kendrick, and kill ya vibe (Bitch!)
Can’t clone me, a wolf in the land of the lamb, homie
Fuck ya whole team up, I’m D’AntoniGot plans homie, I want a crib next to Regis
But I’ll still stay ghetto like selling Swedish Fish during Freakniq

[Verse 4: Crooked I]
I’m on that Long Beach G-Shit,
I’m on that “Fuck all of my teachers who said I would never be shit,”
Look at me now, I am THE Shit,
I keep a pistol that’ll hit you in the stomach and make you pee shit,
Rap’s future, the last goon,
Been a strap shooter, since Brand Nubian’s Grand Puba was that dude
Man I clap rugers, and I’m Zab Judah with jab moves,
I’m that stupid, to jack-move you in a bathroom
Like a mad looter (Luda),
from Vancouver to Cancun, My mac chew your food,
Man I’m cool on the stab wounds,
Them other boys shank you,
No you can’t outrun bullets, but I’d rather catch up to you,
And Point-Blank you,
Introduce the ketchup (catch up) to you,
The eyes dripping, tell your life it ain’t no more Rollies, ya time’s ticking
I just killed the biggest prick in the world,
Now this nigga’s hitting this girl with the biggest dick in the world,
Hitting her till she fixing to earl, no lick in her pearl,
She all about, cock and nuts like mixing a chick and a squirrel,
HaHa, Welcome to Mi Vida Loca,
The Reverend said I’ll see Heaven when Hell freezes over
I told him bury me in my Jesus Piece,
The ice is cold enough to freeze Haiti,
I’m guaranteed to see Jehovah,
Homie, I couldn’t write Slaughterhouse without my therapist,
And tell Sarah Palin that I pal around with terrorists

After a listen (or three), who do y’all think took it!?