Wrecks to Catch (feat. Gorbz) Video (MV)

With my creative acumen, I'm known for slaying tracks and making crazy stratagems
I have waited at the bench, played it safe while my mates are smacking heads
But the enemies I battle, no, I ain't as whack as them, attacking them
Seen demons, released beams that's heat seeking
Seeing all the shit that's in my head would keep a G screaming
All you rappers talking dick, shit, you breathe semen
Keep dreaming, never get this flavour 'cause I bleed season
And even though I'm pessimistic, yes
I be never under threat 'cause I don't let the pistol rest
I'm a mess, aggressive yet, I don't think you get the gist
If you ain't got this f*cking message imma send an SMS
'Cause I'm what happens when you leave the ice out in the sun
Louder than some, 'bout to start a fight, shouting at cunts
I'm the rowdiest one, but wait, imma need a few racks first
'Cause Sak's first thought is to get speed like Bathurst
I'm that cursed, mumbling, stumbling everywhere I go
There I go again, I'm in bed with another random hoe
Did I hallucinate it? I barely know
This shit's a cycle, call it motherf*ckin' merry-rah

And now it's Spectre's turn
Expect it to burn, 'cause my brother knows that respect is earned
With a heavy leaded pencil, a criminal, but detective first
And he be slinging these syllables like a tec that bursts

Shit, what a tough act, spittin' like an Uzi to bust back
Sprayin' the illest lines yo, imma do just that
Homie Sak bringin' the f*ckin' cans and dust masks
Seein' the tags as the bus pass, on the way to some class
The lessons run fast, got my head in my notebook
'Cause i'm writin' dope hooks, even my foes would
Freeze up and be so shook, got 'em on their toes, look
Can't read my body language, cause i'm a closed book
F*ck knows what my verses can do, an insertion or two?
When I start cursing at you, and dispersing the truth
Maybe it's the words that I spew, as I regurgitate 'em
I lay a verse and I play em, sometimes it hurts to say 'em
The shit adverts to mayhem, scripting verbs til the A.M
You worried 'bout havin' sex, and cashin' cheques
F*ck graspin' tecs, i'd rather start catching wrecks
Like Funkmaster Flex, earning massive respect
And that's Spec