Free download
America's Nightmare; Young, Black, And Don't Give A Fuck
Rap In It's Rawest Form
Song Info
Genre
Charts
Peak #1,173
Peak in subgenre #183
Rights
LukeCwalker
Uploaded
June 28, 2006
Track Files
MP3
MP3 4.2 MB • 128 kbps • 4:32
Lyrics
kill em all nigga, let they guts hang out
punch them bastards in they chests till they lungs hang out
stab them bitches in they necks till they tongue's hang out
its lukec the nightmare nigga, huh, bladow!
im an asshole, im a jerk, so what?
call me the shogun, slice you into cold cuts
shit is simple, dont fuss, im disregarding the peace
i was born wit the mark of the beast
if we beef, im gonna leave you wit a scar
break ya fuckin jaw, have you eatin through a straw
cuz im like that, you never know who i might clap
fuck around, im'a put one in my wife's back
i am so gully, you would never know it
like a suicide bomber strapped wit explosives
so here's a dosage of that raw uncut
i am back wit a bang, and ya all fucked up, what!
let me tell you how it is
show you how i do, show you how i live
introduce you to my crew
i be chillin in the cut, fuckin niggaz up
im a junk yard dog, you aint dealin wit a pup
this is how i be, this is how i move
i be lurkin in the shadows, murkin in tha narrows
lukeC tha pharoah, everybody bow down
better make way, let the veteran blaze
yea im back suckaz, i was gone for a minute
i was puttin in work, i was all for my bitness
i was sick of all this rap, and the garbage thats in it
i wasnt here from the start, but its on for the finish
i was writin in the lab all day
while the fiends were smokin crack in the back hallway
but i stayed on my grind
focused in the cut wit tha haze on my mind, waitin for the time
so i took it, wreak havoc, queens to brooklyn
i be wildin, staten island niggaz shooken
catchin vics 3 days a week, call it part time work
no insurance, but i got my worth...uh huh
im a henchman, im a goon, im a thug
im a villain, cold heart wit no feelings
how could one man bring so much pain to a track
like that...like click, click, clack
i aint the pretty rapper you want me to be...son
i dont make beats for shorty's and freaks...none
you either like me or dont, i put the mic in a hold
and spit the shit that i write from from my soul
i make dark tracks, i make evil songs
i make shit that makes you wanna kill ya moms
i am hardcore, in its rawest form
box cutter like a sword, known to chop off arms
best known for his thunderous bass
but best believe i'll let a whole clip dump in ya face
picture me in the game
slappin reporters, im a beast wit a rappin disorder
i was raised in the worst way, hell was my birthplace
came out the womb drinkin beer on my first day
ever since then, ive been wreakin havoc
i hope to god you all die on a shitty mattress
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