Song picture
Sickest Intent
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I left the third verse open to anyone who can give me the sickest 16 lines.
funny humorous giggle yo
Artist picture
The Fo Sheezy on your left handed neezy.
It's been a long time since I've actually produced any of my own music. When you see the dates to the songs on my music page, you'll get the idea. Lately, I've been working with kids and helping them produce music, but fear not, I might have something in the works very soon!
Song Info
Charts
Peak #4,335
Peak in subgenre #591
Author
Sketch
Rights
2003
Uploaded
March 08, 2005
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.4 MB 128 kbps 0:00
Story behind the song
I left the third verse open to anyone who can give me the sickest 16 lines. Just E-mail them to me at Randcs2k1@yahoo.com or IM me at: Sketch Says
Lyrics
Hook: It's hard to believe that with the simplist intent, I'm laying the sickest of lyrics, while you rappers lament, Verse1: To say my name would be a waste of my breath, You either know it, because it rolls like Macbeth Off the tongue of even the deaf, and it's leaving the rest, Stressed to know there's no contest when facing the best, Far from catalystic, call me optimistic, I suffer from an assortment of dull characteristics, An antaganistic, check the statistics, I'm the reason half you dudes is putting on lipstick, I disguise myself as a preschool teacher, To reach ya, I'll become your little kids preacher, Then while your sleeping, use them to fuck with your securities, Chop you up and mail you off to B class celebrities, I love tearing up trix, but with milk and a bowl, I like to keep it gangsta, cause I'm as hard as Bob Dole, I never give up when I hit the rope, The only fight I've been in was with a bar of soap, (Hook) Verse 2: I.Q. 20, Girls they think I'm funny, I'm out for the paper, white people, that's money, I'm a laid back fucker, you vampires are nothing, You ain't sucking on my blood, your sucking down smuckers, They call me S to the K to the Etch, Grab and tear off the leg of a dog, toss it and tell him fetch, I'd go back in time and get a piece of washingtons mama, Just to get a resemblance of me on the dollar, My lyrical content is lacking, what, Some intelligent hip hop punch packing, but, Don't think a dull needle couldn't keep your mouth shut, And I still have not said busting a nut, Who could entice me now, to entice this crowd, From rippiing off heads, and being too loud, And from chewing on the viens and the terrible laughing, I'd say toss me a piece cause I sure love taffy, Verse 3: (Open to the sickest verse)
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