Song Info
Genre
Peak in subgenre #357
Author
The Individual
Rights
Wicked Records
Uploaded
April 26, 2004
Track Files
MP3
MP3 4.2 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Lyrics
My text is forbidden' and C-Dubb spits whack sh** and says its a tradition
Just admit ya not winning, and stop complaining Cuz ya never get recongnition by b*** ing
Yall knew im a problem, soon as clicked and signed-on-da-board
Nines in da drawer, to put ya so called mind-on-the-floor
Dont mind me you whore, but if you ever boast ill hit-you
You a gangsta? More like a 6th grader who got social-issues
You dont tote no pistols, you don't 'slang-no-stones'
You a fukkin' geek, the doctors speech: "HE CAME OUT WRONG"
Im bangin' on these lyrics like an explosive-charge
I've heard better verses coming outta REPULSIVE-BROADS
Crack ya skull-wit-bars, my flows got dynamical-functions
You aint withstandin'-dis-thumpin I hit ya like VOLCANIC-ERUPTIONS
Frantically bustin, pointed rhymes to put this man-in-a-hearse
Ill have this kid missin, quick someone call the f*** in amber alert
It's Over Before It Began
I’ll leave dubb hanging like chickens with yheir neck snapped
The only ‘trap’ you set is a wire to keep your breast strapped
n*** you put no fear in this, you couldn’t get your ‘point across’
If your name was switched to ‘horizontal period’
Meanwhile defeats ‘stack up’ on you like a pyramid
Learn how to be a bigger ‘dick’, and quit spitting like cliterous
First or last matters not when I’m spitting toward you
Like trying to stand paper upright no-one supports you
Couldn’t get ‘a-head’ if you were a born Siamese Hydra,
While I glide by ya, like dodge-vipers with dub tires
My worse spit is 20 times your best written article,
Burn you like Jason, then rip you to particles
Stack ya chips on the table, place bets on ya fate,
I’ll take ya money, in exchange stitches rest In your face
Your flows come up shorter than grown women jacking off infants,
You’re headed no-where like automobiles lacking an engine
Showin ya roots like a flower that was never planted
you couldnt right a good verse if i was left handed
Sum'n like mase, im on top of ur verses
Slap you wit da Holy Bible till you drop your curses
Battle'n knowing u gonna get ripped, theres no purpose
You clown, give up rappin and go back to the circus
Sum how, this rap is infectin' this whyte boys house
Talk sh** ; watch how quick I smack the taste out your mouth…
Like a power cord, i gave u and extentsion
On the real dawg I’m only battling YOU to get YOU attention…
Your straight weak n your skill is wack…
Your flows is sh** like the side effects of E-Lax
Actin like you nice or sum'n,So cold i spit ice in ya cup man
But the truth is you "suck" more than the tubes during " Bizarre's" lipo-suction
i bet ur my favorite fan,you best be prayin quick i aint playin, sh**
im winnin this audio battle like i had no say-in-it
Individual rip ya', and with 3 bullets my tec will spark lead
but you won't even make the second round...like Kevin Garnett
When I think love, i think of a gay guy makin sweet love to C-Dubb
See cuz, I told him to get protection, and he brong a condem man
Hit him with the bottom hand...I got em' man
Aint a magician but i got more trix then cereal
There we go,I bet u burn this song and bump it ur stereo
Your delirous, you cant be serious
Cuz i'll make ya face bleed like u got ur period
and ya mood swingin like a monkey do
May seems funny to you, buts its true
Had to spit sum real shyt, u said i'm gettin soft
On my dick like a condem, sum1 get him off
I deal more bricks then ya lil brothers legos
And ya girl, I LOVE MY MANGO
