Adrenaline Rush

Adrenaline Rush, Adrenaline Rush Adrenaline Rush, Adrenaline Rush yaya. (Looptroop) Check it out. Looptroop Rockerz '99. David vs Goliath. Check it out ya ya ya, ha! Feel the heartbeat x4 Feel the adrenaline rush (Promoe) My name P, still the same, word to GP Y'all wanna test me, you must be CP I know that wasn't PC, politically correct to say Well, neither is calling you gay Hey man, I represent from V-ĺs to A-dam Any damn day of the week might go spraycan From gas-stations to subway stations Radio-stations, me and Embee on a vacation Travelling Europe in a bus, on a adrenaline rush Why superstars travelling on egotrips? Because they must! Are you a big tree then I'm a small chainsaw Ready to massacre your ass and let the brains blow With a strange flow, write rhymes till I'm feverish Make a beverage of pussy-juice and the blood Of average MC's, on stage I'm illin' So, after the show lecture girls for sexual healing My microphone is like shower-curtain, Reveals the naked truth, call me Promoe Perkins A swedish psycho, travelling business class to Norway, Bergen Setting off fire alarms, microphones I'm burning Fucking shit up like Norwegians in S-train-yards Don't believe me? Check how I bless them bars With the vocal joint, that'll be the new focal point For the whole hiphop-world, and still I'm just a little boy With a passion for taxin' MC's till them in passion Appoint me the next chief, of finances You better start giving some fine answers We all know you're guilty, you lying bastard Better dead that, talk out of your head crap Before you hear yourself screaming "Oh no" like redrat Small-timers, so called rhymers Stepping on stage got (old-timers) ((alzheimers))"Where am I?" This ain't battle-rhymes, it's battle cries, ancient warchamps My name ain't Biggie, you don't get one more chance Run off your mouth and I'll run you off the street Promoe rules from the valley of the deep Peace to the valley of death, if you wanna step That'll be your last step, a promise, not a threat Got you nervous, like you onÂ? ? Mailbombs?, man, you need to gain pounds, man You little feather-weight, get it straight, Promoe penetrate Drill a hole in the ground and turn up in the United States Unite with greats on the way up, Stay up like girls dressed in stay-up's, bombing lay-up's Way after bed-time, you get dead rhymes, There'll be no resurrection, for my shit Brovaz go Cocoa like Smif-n-Wessun, no question Mics, spraycans and turntables Bringin the bloodrush likeÂ? Martin Able? But more than once a month, got MC's On the midnight run, through the land of the midnight-sun, Sweden, Gotham City to Gothenburg Don't give a fuck y'all, I'm from the city of a suburb P R O to the M O E Messing with me and you end up (a) ((in)) memory R.I.P mural in the Ruhr-area Jag heter Mĺrten, kommer frĺn Sverige Represent wackness, like Sizzla represents slackness Question mark check-holders and blackness Then when you're done licking the balls of Mad Skillz And Slick Rick take a suck on my big dick Cause all I see is crews that bite, wack rhymes and wack mics Men are like rappers when they're over hyped Over-night-sensations: Promoe's your replacement I just to get down with my crew in the basement Now I get the place bent like some Einstein from the pavement, you sit back in amazement I write graffiti like some caveman To the future of two-thousand, signing out five-thousand