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Applied science and the very sattelite
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"the words bad dub are in the title" - slug
hiphop rap underground nyc flip la p plus uncle scam clique
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It's never too late to waste a little time. This is mastabeta.
Honest rap. Anybody in a pink jumpsuit need not apply, unless of course you are man enough to wear it without checking with your friends every ten minutes. ------------------------------------------------- "A fine collection of bad dubs. I'm just glad it exists." -EPL
Song Info
Genre
Hip-Hop • Alternative Hip Hop
Author
Mastabeta aka E.Lugo
Rights
1999 Zombiehead/Goodrobot
Uploaded
March 14, 2003
Track Files
MP3
MP3 4.1 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Lyrics
Phony ass emcees...the king of rock is no longer Elvis Presely, I'm enterin' your crib...dynamite my touch tone...the provalone's crusty..try to bust me? Fine, my mind isn't rusty...shareholder-trustee...declare bankrupcy...in this industry, darkest and dusty. slang for the metaphor...you want a war? I'll bring it down like a meteor...P-TOOEY CHOP! bonafide soothesayer...I'm not a player, but a hater of a rhyme decayer, hysteria... in with these hairy palms...Vietnam, Sadaam, and a smart bomb...on my leg leg arm monkey in the middle...fuck your mom and your candlelight vigil...documents is official... CREAM SHELTER missles bustin' off on your quarters... I travel in the form of one of GOD's tape recorders.. travel in the form of an airbourne virus... travel in the form of an all seeing iris... travel in the form of a nuclear scientist...so I could push the button and begin frying shit then, travel in the form of the last cockroach...to survive the blast and in the end I'll make a toast. SCIENTIFIC* I'm the boss of this holocaust...brownnosin'? ayo..I like my salad tossed..cut the bullshit... emcee veteran, there ain't no better than the "wonder headspin" I'm high up like special ketamine...a hip hop puzzler...Masta Beta, Darth Vader, ale guzzler...sleepin' with my anger... dedicated soul banger...my satellites are transmittin' through your coat hanger... 5 0'clock shadowmaster..forcast of the bloody eyes ghetto blaster...connectin' planets...far beyond understandin'...second skin is the metal skin, pressure crackin'...ultra fire...radio stainlifter...turtlenecks with the UNCLE SCAM logo, that are wore by the choir...who sing songs of sorrow...no tomorrow when today's youth are all hollow...tough to swallow...alien communication...morse code to those livin' at the train station...puncture ozones...we stand all alone...megaphone and the microphone dollar zone get the dial tone... My thoughts infect hearing aides through vocal tranmissions that bounce off the very satellites that TV's will recieve...even the radio reacts to this bizarre digital possession, messin' with a logic too uneasy to believe...that's why niggaz know the words, all without explanation...sing-along songs that killed the Star Spangled Banner...wide eyed fascination circulates your brain system, you're overcome with joy and stumbled upon the answer... many dialects define dope as divinity...not candy assed rappers wrapped up individually...soon-to-be- players should quit and find a role model...the coal miner..underground, ultrasonic soul wobble... I keep it on a level that's untouched by average thinkers...BI-LEVEL unit command post with these ill metal fingers...on the great board of selections-2000 skull with a top hat style (intense) *what* on the great board of selections-2000 skull in a top hat style intense....
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