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Whats up fellow hip hop heads!...
bump my ish ...thats all i gotta speak on...
Song Info
Genre
Charts
Peak #5,968
Peak in subgenre #3,444
Author
Animateur
Rights
copyrighted 2004
Uploaded
March 05, 2004
Track Files
MP3
MP3 1.5 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Story behind the song
anger innovated the lyrics in this track..i meant every word i said...
Lyrics
"get em gone"
im sick of fuckin with the bullshit-muthafuckas,
imma run up dumpin',sumthin' down a sucka-thoat,
fuck-it-yo,
i been dusted and disgusted-before,
fuck what yo know,
when i bust-unload,
i got headz clutchin-throats,
with exposed frontal-lobes,
the sun-he-glow,
with all the heat he blazin',
off a gun-he-stole,
you can get it if you want it yo...
and fuck a bitch ass gang...
i dont need back when i whip-ass-mang!
"imma get-that-chain"
ya shorty give madd brain,
the diffrence between yall..
she's a trick thats paid!
and still yall wanna act like ya holdin somethin',
i stay madd stoned-and-blunted,
you stay coppin roaches from ya homies ashtrays...
you wack-mang,
when i said GUNPLAY..
this kid brought water-pistols,
i resolve-an-issue,when revolvers-spit-thru,
and rip-thru-ya-muscle-tissue,
before you realize..what the fuck-just-hit-you,
fuck what-ya-been-thru,
fuck every birth yo baby mama-gives-too,
commit every act of torture to see which youll live thru,
yall need to suck a dick and relax,
ill unload a clip in yass,
and have you spittin out caps,
you aint took no manhood..w/out givin it back,
you the type to come home from prison-a-fag,
these mcz is bitches-in-drag,
lets just face it..these bitches cant-rap,
im puttin INDIANA shit-on-a-map,
like i wiped my ass..with ya road atlas,
my flows-captured-in-closed-captions,
im DEF like THAT!
ittl be a closed-casket,
ya wig get thrown-backwards,
and bones-shatter..when foes-chatter,
i dont matter...
i give a FCUK!
yall can suck my dick and lick my nuts!
treat ya bitch like a gun,
pull out,bust,and leave...
yall cant..fcuk with me!
expect -the-worse,from the second-verse,
you'd look funny with ya neck -reversed,
measure the pain in MEGA-HERTZ,
i can bring-the-worst,
im the starvin-artist-waitin',
for my meal..my heart dont pump no carbonation,
my arms-embracin,your neck..
as death gets its contemplation,
your pleas are non-persuasive,
i crush the thoughts-you-thinkin..
with tactical condensation,
i kill emcees in confrantations,
leavin so many sacrs-abrasions,
its impossible to render a identity conformation,
yall aint rockin-mics-real,
im quite skilled,yall do nuthin short of NYQUIL,
be puttin headz to sleep,
my shits like runnin your head thru concrete!
you comotose cat with wack rappin,
i comotose cats like bad car-crashes,
and fatal accidents,
i serve emcees flattend-thin,
like flap-jacks,on dish,
you rap cats can-wish,
for a decent-rebuttal,
your rymes as deep-as-a-puddle,
you existance..meager and subtle,
i got enuff balls to take on NORTH KOREA-amd=bust thru...
afghanistan and hand-a-man..death,
murk him,,shit on his face,
and wipe my ass on BIN LADEN'S turban.
hurtin everyone for a reason uncertain,
ill put em in the dirt..for-sure-kid,
ill go bezerk man....time to get em gone..
and thats for certain...
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