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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
  •