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Its UK Hip-Hop but not as you know it...
Song Info
Genre
Charts
Peak #5,289
Peak in subgenre #2,835
Author
Mink-C
Rights
Mink-C
Uploaded
March 25, 2003
Track Files
MP3
MP3 2.9 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Lyrics
Better shut ya trap, its the vincent price of rap
I burn rappers so much, I should be known as the clap
Its night-time, emerge from the grave in a trance
Pull on my ghostly addidas and hit a b-boy stance
Hunt the fuckin graveyard til I see Veks tombstone
I rat-a-tat-tat on that shit with my arm bone
He emerges in the mist like a hunchback in a rage
we float through the brambles to the makeshift stage
the church looms up above, the crowd is waitin
tossed two mics made of limbs, the coffin speakers vibratin'
its time to set it off, i hold the mic steady
my eye sockets check to see if Vek is ready
we got zombies, vampires, skeletons in the crowd
and the mummified remains of veks bitch sittin proud
then I drop my first punch, some real cold shit
Veks jaw drops off, thats when I knew the shit hit
picks it up again, and slots it back in place
so I unleash with a multi, ectoplasms in his face
some cat pumpin his fist tryin to hijack my plan
got the crowd jumpin, don't need no half-dead hype man
I spit about the old days back in 2003
Hip-Hop Central, no-shows in battle tourneys
i say he shoulda packed up the mic and gone home
instead he dropped battles soundin like a down syndrome
kid, i never knew a decent track he did
he just sounded like a retarded bebe kid
i never got drawn against him so i had to call him out
he can't hang like a lower leg infected with gout
pull punches out the hat just like a phantom magician
drag myself across the stage and fuckin slap his apparition
its mink-c, the mortician with munition
fuck my decomposition, i'll beat Vek into submission
i'm the spectre of hip-hop, metaphors macabre
my words are like fire, lightin up the candelabra
i reach in my rib cage and then i'm handin out a pink slip
look at Vek his heads spinnin like hes on a head trip
he's almost on the ropes, so I back off
then he pulls a bitch move, picks up a knife and tries to hack off
my mic hand, I dodge and have a word with the DJ
say 'lets here a vek one battle, put it on and let that shit play....
Fuck it, the crowd started booin and hissin
they're hatin it the way you'd hate a bad skin condition
Vek is lookin like he's just about to throw in the towel
and when I hit him with a simile, he empties his bowels
lookin like a cross between a fag and a demon
when i split his fuckin skull in two his bitch starts screaming
he pulls out an old book and points at rhymes like its hype
but this is audio not text and i don't fuckin type
now the priest with the red eyes is about to call time
so I spit another metaphor and cover him with slime
i gotta beat this bitch rapper in this ghoulish prison
the priests about to stop it and just start the exorcism
lookin at vek one hes like a fuckin abberation
he's like a figment of a mental patients sick imagination
and he spasms like a phantasm, devil lookin bogeyman
fallin like a spirit fallin victim to my battle plan
now the priest grabs his book and starts the reading
Vek falls to his knees and starts the pleading
While the votes are being cast, the crowd buzzin like locusts
votin for the mink-c with the verbal hocus pocus
I win, Vek burns up see I've served the kid
Remove my sneakers, jump back in my coffin and fuckin slam the lid
