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Текст (слова) песни - Beef Rapp - MF Doom Текст (слова) песни: MF Doom - Beef Rapp
[MF Doom] Beef rap Could lead to gettin teeth capped Or even a wreath for mom dukes on some grief crap I suggest ya change ya diet It can lead ta high blood pressure if ya fry it Or even a stroke, heart attack, heart disease It ain`t no startin back once arteries start ta squeeze Take the easy way out phony, until then They know they wouldn`t be talkin that bologna in the bullpen So disgustin, pardon self as I discuss this They talk a wealth of shit and they ain`t never seen the justice Bust this, like a cold milk from out the toilet Two batteries some Brillo and some foil, he`a boil it He be better off on PC glued And it`s a feud so don`t be in no TV mood Every week it`s mystery meat, seaweed stewed [food, we need food!] He wears a mask just to cover the raw flesh A rather ugly brother with flows that`s gorgeous Drop dead joints hit the whips like bird shit They need it like a hole in they head or a third tit Her bra smell, his card say: aw hell Barred from all bars and kicked out the Carvel` Keep a cooker where the jar fell And keep a cheap hooker that`s off the hook like Ma Bell Top bleeding, maybe fella took the loaded rod gears Stop feeding babies colored sugar-coated lard squares The odd pairs swears and God fears Even when it`s rotten, we`ve gotten through the hard years I wrote this note around New Year`s Off a couple a shots and a few beers, but who cares? Enough about me, it`s about the beats Not about the streets and who food he about ta eat A rhymin cannibal who`s dressed to kill, it`s cynical Whether is it animal, vegetable, or mineral It`s a miracle how he get so lyrical And proceed to move the crowd like a old Negro spiritual For a mil` do a commercial for Mello Yello Tell `em devil`s hell no, sell y`all own Jello We hollow krills, she swallow pills He follow flea collar three dollar bills And squeal for halal veal, in y`all appeal Dig the real, it`s how the big ballers deal Twirl a L after every meal [FOOD] What up To all rappers shut up with ya shuttin up And keep your shirt on, at least a button up Yuck, is they rhymers or strippin males? Outta work jerks since they shut down Chippendales They chippin nails, Doom... jippin scales Let alone the pre-orders that`s counted off shippin sales This one goes out to all my peoples skippin bail Dippin jail, whippin tail, and sippin ale Light the doobie til it glow like a ruby After which they couldn`t find the Villain like Scooby He`s in the lab on some old Buddha Monk shit Overproof drunk shit, and who`da thunk it? Punk try an ask why ours be better It could be the iron mask or the Cosby sweater Yes, you, who`s screwed by the dude on the CD, nude! [we need food!]
Другие песни MF Doom :
Beef Rapp
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