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Track: Next 2 Me
Artist: Reks
Album: Grey Hairs

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Name: Reks
Spotify Genres: underground hip hop, boom bap
Followers: 46,890
Popularity:

32/100

Biography

US rapper, born Corey Isaiah Christie in Lawrence, Massachusetts, August 24th, 1977.

Source: Discogs

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Discogs Release Info

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Release: Reks - Grey Hairs
Year: 2008
Genres: Hip Hop

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No additional relationship information found.

Source: MusicBrainz

LYRICS

[Intro] [Reks talking]
Haha. Yo. DC, yo...it's 'bout time we connected. Hahaha.
R.E.K.S. Let's go. Haha, Lawtown. Massachusetts.
'Bout to be a problem y'all. You know, I know. Haha. I know. Yo
[Verse One]
Feel it's imperative, rappers get they sedatives
Record is, definition, given in the dictionary
For spittin' so effortless
Every breath is, as if, I'm the game of Tetris
Hold any block down
Name any block 'round, I connect with it
Legendary street etiquette
Boilin' kettle with, steamin' rhetoric
Aimin' taunts at the faults of the hecklers
Let go ridiculous metaphors I was meant for this
Shit
Spit tighter than virgin vagina
The kind of rhymer blind ya with the necklaces
Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde before I let off with this
(Kiss kiss) Bang bang
Man, I be on some shit kid
Knight Rider with the army on ya, owe ya honor
I was tryin' to calm him but he felt he had to touch the sauna
Told him good karma come upon you like tsunami waves
Forget the problems it's peace
Two fingers waved

[Chorus] [x2]
Don't add insult to injury
Hurt yourself fuckin' with R.E.
K.S., yes Reks a vet, sorry
All these rappers ain't shit next to me

[Verse Two]
Ya see, rappers hyperventilate
When I'm in a spittin' state
Innovate rhymes, put your mind on the dinner plate
Ain't a fuckin' line in my rhymes niggas can debate
Spit them 8 by 8's with tongue on skates
(Zip by)
With the zip drive
High to the face
And I don't smoke lye but my mind outer space
I can fly to the gates of Heaven with the Reverend, say grace
With the angels then race to Earth, spit a verse
At 11:00 at a showcase
Flow way
Beyond your slow pace
Zoo to blow, move the fo's, domes shake
Don't hate
Don't make me irate
I put my heavyweight bars against your featherweights any day
Anyway
Movin' along, spewin' the bomb lyricals
I'll do to the song what mom's do to umbilicals
Rip it to shreds, I'm sick with the lead
Not just the top, but to the paper's bottom edge

[Chorus] [x2]
Don't add insult to injury
Hurt yourself fuckin' with R.E.
K.S., yes Reks a vet, sorry
All these rappers ain't shit next to me

[Verse Three]
Yo, call the doctor, call the nurse
I got a burst that hurts the worst
Put bitches in stitches, vicious with words, pronouns and verbs, I'ma
Beast with grammar kinda like literature teachers
Rip to pieces any MC's thesis
Jesus
I thirst for 16's with spleens with spittage
Admit
Rather obscene lyrics in doors
I'ma
Force to be reckoned with, wreckin' shit
Is of course the one causin' vibration in the mic cords
Swords sharpen
The boy poppin' off of the gum
Got a flame in the belly that heat up the tongue
Cough up a lung, where I'm from
Niggas stay high, chinky eyed
And Reks symbolize anything fly
Ride Honda Civics slow
Shuffle through the slow
When we too small for hoopin' so we gotta sell blow
Or we gotta flow like Krumb
Scientifik, damn we lost one
It's only right
We hold the torch son

[Chorus] [x2]
Don't add insult to injury
Hurt yourself fuckin' with R.E.
K.S., yes Reks a vet, sorry
All these rappers ain't shit next to me

Next to me