Yo, weed lacer, %6097 burgundy Blazer
Wanted for burglary, had to ditch the Mercury Tracer
Im on some locd shit
Some fed up wit the bein broke shit
Im not to joke wit
Bitch, I dont sell crack, I smoke it
My brains dusted; Im disgusted at all my habits
Too many aspirin tablets, empty medicine cabinets
Losing battles to wack rappers cause I#m always to blunted
Walkin up in the cypher smokin, talkin bout “Who want it?”
Thug and crook; every drug in the book Ive done it
My 9s at your brain, is that your chain? Run it
Crews die from an overdoseage of excessive flavor
aggresive nature got me stickin you for your progressiv pager
Spectacular, crystla-meth manufacturer
Stole your mommas Acura, wrecked it, and sold it back to her
Bostin Nike jackets, escapted from psychiatrics
Told the nurse to save a bed for me, I might be back, bitch
So barricade your entrance, put up some extra fences
A woman beater, wnted for repeated sex offenses (Ooh)
Chasin dips - take em on long vacation trips
Kidnappin em and Trappin em in abusive Relationships
Fuck up your face and lips
Slit your stomach and watch your gut split
Got you wit that razor that I used to shave my nuts wit (laugher)
Mama, dont you cry, your son is too far gone
Im so high, I dont even know what label Im on
Im fucked up, I feel just like an overworked plumper
Im sick of this shit, whats Dr. Kevorkians phone number?
[quote]rasturai wrote:
what song is this?[/quote]
This thread kind of reminds me of American Psycho where Christian Bale’s character plays crappy 80’s music and praises it. He played Huey Lewis and the News…Whitney Houston…if I remember correctly.
Hold the cold one
Like he hold the old gun
Like he hold the microphone
And stole the show for fun
Or a foe for ransom
Flows is handsome
O’s in tandem
Anthem, random, tantrum
Phantom of the Grand Old Opry ask the dumb hottie
Masked pump shottee
Somebody stop me
Hardly come sloppy on a retarded hard copy
After rockin’ parties he departed in a jalopy
Watch the droptop papi
Known as the grimy limey slimy
Try me blimey
Simply smashing in a fashion that’s timely
Mad Villain dashing in a beat rhyme crime spree
We rock the house like rock 'n roll
Got more soul
Than a sock with a hole
Set the stage with a goal
To have the game locked in a cage
Getting shocked with a pole
Overthrow like throwing rover a viscuit
A lot of bitches think he’s overly chauvanistic
Let go his dick if that’s the case
Rats, what a waste
More cats to chase
Dogs he got 'em like new powers
Woke up, wrote and spit the shit in a few hours
Sheesh! Been unleashed since the glee club
Had your fam saying please make me a dub
Well, since you ask kindly
Where he been behind the mask
Who can’t find me?
You’re blind in the wine zone
Leave ya mind blown when he shine with the 9
He’s a rhinestone…cowboy
Goony goo goo loony koo-koo like Gary Gnu off New Zoo Review
But who knew the mask had a loose screw?
Hell, could hardly tell
Had to tighten it up
Like the Drells and Archie Bell
It speaks well of the hyper bass
Wasn’t even tweaked and it leaked into cyberspace
Couldn’t wait for the snipes to place
At least a track list in bold print typeface
Stopped for a year
Come back with thumb tacks
Pop for the beer, we’re hip hop sharecroppers
Used to wear flip flops, now rare gear coppers
He’s in this for the keesh
You might as well not ask for no free shit, capiche?
Oh my aching hands
From raking in grands and breakin in mic stands
Villain-his smile stuns ya chick
While he puts himself in your shoes
Run ya kicks
You heard it on the radio-tape it
Play it in your stereo your crew’ll go apeshit
Raw lyrics-he smells 'em like a hunch
The same intuition that tells who spiked the punch
Curses
He’s truly the worsest
With enough rhymes to spread
Throughout the boundless universes
Let the beat blast
She told him wear the mask
He said you bet your sweet ass
Its made of fine chrome alloy
Find him on the grind
He’s the rhinestone…cowboy
Villain’ll hold the mic like he’s mean and his tummy hurt
In a clean pair, ripped jeans and a bummy shirt
Wonderin would you clap your hands if he was friendly?
Dapper Dan dipped in pretend-to-be Fendi and gold sellin
No tellin, slap a fan hand down, tell ‘em “no yellin”
DOOM- all capitals, no trick spellin
Got what it take to get it through your thick melon
(Woopwoosh!) Fresh witty city skits
When he get wreck, pretty emcees catch titty fits
Told them call the cops, just don’t hold your breath for the ball to drop
Better yet, hold on to your halter top
Kept reppin, steppin in hotta
Ignoring pigs like Bigs Top Shotta
Surviver of a live crew, not out to jive you
It stings when he laugh when he at the bank drive-thru
Wylin’, get me every red penny
Sold a lonely only child a imaginary enemy
When he sees the mask and the microphone gizmo
He’s the broke host this is like his own quiz show
This go out to all my brothers doin long bids and sisters
Who got brothers bein fathers to the wrong kids
Stay strong and ride like the funky flute
Won’t find the Villain in the street inside no monkey suit
Or either at the bar in no gorilly bra
Nor raceway park scoring on no silly car
Ask the stranger he knows who you really are
Behind the mask face stay dark, no boring willy star
Gleaming, dreaming, screaming- he’ll be off the heezy soon
Cunning live rats drive at your steaming greasy spoon
In participating places tip your waitress’
A sure fire way to wire, trip the matrices
Skip ya laces, all black tennis miniature
Ball stack, gall tall pack, Guinness minister
Tussle the hustle, cut your dank with dirt
Won’t be in the club in a muscle tank shirt
You could find 'em in the pub with the grub stain
Chuggin on a small tub of pain to his bugged brain
Sane, some say he plum crazy
Amazed at how he still get paid but dumb lazy
That’s for him to know and for you to guess
Won’t be caught in a suit vest at no computer desk
A suede front, maybe may stunt khaki dig
Not in no braids or no lace-front yaki wig