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I'll Hurt You
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08/19/05 Just showin' everyone that I can lace it like the pros. This isn't a full track, just a quick verse I put together. Gotta thank Busta Rhymes and Scott Storch for this one.
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The illest music you'll ever hear.
Song Info
Charts
Peak #1,302
Peak in subgenre #558
Author
Dizeazed / Scott Storch
Rights
Dizeazed - Lyrics / Scott Storch - Music
Uploaded
August 19, 2005
Track Files
MP3
MP3 2.0 MB 128 kbps 0:00
Lyrics
I’ve been waiting but no longer have the patience so now all my hesitation is ending so watch out cause I’m coming through I’m tired of the hating yall make me as angry as Satan all your easy music making well bitch I can do it to Yall rantin’ and ravin’ sayin I need lyrical bathin’ but yall play dirty so why is it that yall wanna come at me? I’m just a kid who loves spittin’ lyrics whether or not you nasty critics wanna hear it And that’s right my name’s Dizeazed If you can’t feel it you can drop it just turn my music off stop it and quit throwing all your time and energy a-fukin-way I get the party poppin’, I can keep the speakers hoppin’, I’m never floppin’ Cause I’m doin’ this every fukin day My flow will take you higher then a seven forty seven, girls think they in heaven just because of my tone and how I sound And even if you don’t get that lifed just off flow Sinicide’s packin’ dro And he’ll be sure to get you off the ground It’s in every one of my bones coming up out of my mouth as it foams my music’s so contagious it’s in every single person’s home These voices inside of my dome are keeping me constantly in the zone and it’s so original, even to me its origin’s still unknown You hearing what I say, notice my lyrics stray towards the unordinary I spit psychopathic wordplay Nobody tops my skill, I spit these lyrics to kill, people keep it real but I’m Dizeazed, I’d rather keep it ill Sometimes I t-t-t-t-trip over my words when I spit’em cause I c-c-c-c-can’t get’em outta my mouth fast enough My brain’s on overdrive and it’s burning my cells alive so when I think you might start to see my eyes and ears smokin’ up. But yall don’t give a fuck what’s happening to my face, long as I keep the syllables on rhythm with the beat and bass So analyze and criticize the rhymes in my mind but cross the line and I’ll make you an embarrassing disgrace
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