get at me: mcenef@gmail.com
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Song Info
Track Files
Lyrics
verse1
how you call yourself harlem but you stay up in the bronx
i can dig it sucka, dig a hole for you an ya moms
ol penut head ass, you need to keep it steady
seems im battlin the bastard child of eugene levy
with them eyebrows, wait it could be ben stiller son
from meet the fockers, who the fuck told you, you was a killer son
yousa bitch, you aint a ryder from the b-x
you d omen, searchin the internet just for cheap sex
no top rope, lets settle it with pens
calls himself harlem heat, he likes to wrestle with men
battling me, i know thats hard well
you the bitch in a tag team ima call you sherri martel
fuck this cat, have em rock a paper bag
only gun this fag carrys around is when hes out playin lazer tag
cmon guy, you aint got a strap to tuck it
only grind hes on is when hes dancin with his fuckin cousin
he relocated, theres no way to stop me now
i should move too and make harlem my new stompin grounds
you aint hott duke, you hott puke
what else he gon cop to, spill it dog i aint gonna stop you
we dont need to battle, harlem heats up in the place
hes got 2 wooly bears having a wrestling match on his face
and you ugly as fuck, hes got the same dumb ass look
id love to throw em under a truck
or under a bus, claims he got heat under his gut
he got medevils palm restin under his nutts
and you best buds, havin butt sex, unless
your boyfriends a criminal, ima call ya sex life a suspect
verse2
ill let this guy know, he need to take the high road
look @ this grandmas boy, ill serve him up a shot just like shiloh
dont need to punch in, youll get the backhand
n med can rush in, but by then, youll be stuffed in a trash can
im driving you to lose, so fuck it go for shotty
couldnt tear this thread up, if Harlem used omens body
& punches back to back, i heard that he humble
but ill never drop from the Heat, i aint stack bundles
muthafucka, compare me to you, never dog
and his cuts is wack, never killed the tracks like severs arm
you fuckin ya cousin, we heard that you nutted
yea you the truth, or atleast you just nimrods version of it
but check it even ya boy said we no equals
so im fittin to get up in harlems ass like medevil(no homo)
im pissed off, this bitch soft, hes not patient
his lips stuffed, he aint sick dog, hes not asian
had to scratch another verse cause it wasnt as raw
looks like ya fat from ya head sunk under ya jaw
battling me i know that he nervous, so enefs gonna
punch in ya muthafuckin lips like most of ya verses
im fly, up in the sky like george jetson
taking this hands down like not botherin to ask questions
look you aint booker t, man this heats lighter
turn his clothes bloody red like ken from street fighter
you know enef just got that street fire
fuck medevil writin ya verse, heats gonna need cire
plus the fact that you wizack on beats lets us know that its crap
so when i drop heat, you know that its crack
and you the guy with a corny name up in the streets
what the fuck edwin is there 6 other harlem heats
stupid, im too fluent for this wack guy
he be pissin himself, might as well try out for black eyes
peeon, youll get peed on
im way too cold with the punches, why bother to put the heat on
with a head like that, this is hard to handle
crack his dome on the pavement, anybody want em scrambled
im takin this over easy, but you know im greazy
he smokin that rock, so harlem aint got the stones to beat me
im da siknizzzzzzz