Free download
Song Info
Genre
Charts
Peak #10,222
Peak in subgenre #5,960
Author
Kit
Rights
Northern Lights Entertainment
Uploaded
August 01, 2004
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.4 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Story behind the song
I got pissed off with other rappers who thought they can pull one over on me.
Lyrics
Flat Line
Verse One
I inhale lethal amounts of cocaine and shrooms,
Locked in my room,
With more characters than O. Bloom,
Let me catch sunlight or chances are I won’t bloom,
Fuck people who say that I O U,
Yeah I’m a rapper that part is so true,
Fuck you! I’ll make sure your father disowns you,
Fuck around with me then I will piss on you,
Shit on you,
Yeah I’m dirty, but your mother is too,
Say that again and I will slap you in the face,
You’re a disgrace to the hip-hop race,
Here hit this weed, it’s been laced,
Is there one rapper who hasn’t been influenced by Mace?
Crash my car and hop out with 8 lives left,
12 hearts in my chest but I still drop dead,
Collapse to the ground tryin to get some rest,
But to me sleep is the cousin of death,
Some Jesus freak came at me with leaflets,
So I got up and I escaped down the street,
I ran so fast my body took over my feet,
I dislocated my hip and fell into a heap,
Stuck in my mind like Guantanamo Bay,
Fucking voices coming at me every which way,
Sometimes, I don’t even know what I should say,
So I keep my finger up, till you feel me that way,
You can have sex with Jill and you still ain’t Jack,
I’m so sick I make all types of medicine ill,
My rhymes are all whack and that’s matter of fact,
People who diss me lyrically will end up with a line that’s flat,
Chorus x2
Emcee’s who verse me will end up flat lined,
I ain’t no kille,r but I’ll end you with my mind,
Lyrically, to me, you ain’t nuttin,
Look I got you runnin, hiding for your life,
Verse Two
My brains swamped with evil thoughts from the dead,
Thinkin about murder has made my mind warped,
Step, into the kitchen,
Pick up a carvin knife,
And stick you from about a centimetre of your life,
I shake and spasm like I’m having a seizure,
Then puke up lyrics all down the front of your T-shirt,
I’m way too blunted, to even give a shit,
But I’ll still wipe my ass all across your carpet,
Look,
I’ll steal your rhymes and spit them over my own beat,
I’m a lyrical burglar; I’m an alphabet thief,
With a carpet burned ass,
And a Halloween mask,
Covered in gas, tryin to light a match,
The day I die drop me off of a skyscraper,
Then I’ll pick my ass up,
And hang with the undertaker,
You ain’t ready for me yet,
That’s why, your head is fucked and your hands are covered in sweat,
Right now,
I’m flowing of this track and shit,
Drinking straight Bacardi and eating chocolate covered laxatives,
Pass out again, mushrooms, tabs and ketamine,
Let me in,
I’m tripped out on amphetamine,
Dust smoking, killin women and children,
Hip-hop pilgrim,
Rip muscles and throw you through a building,
I’m sneaky,
Thinkin of rhymes even though I’m sleeping,
Creeping, all over your words, and make you eat them,
Really, I’m UK’s best-kept secret,
Pressed my own album and put it on Kazaa to leak it,
I eat monopoly but shit out connect 4,
I’m more annoyin than a million Jehovah’s witness’s knocking at ya door,
Chorus x2
Emcee’s who verse me will end up flat lined,
I ain’t no killer, but I’ll end you with my mind,
Lyrically, to me, you ain’t nuttin,
Look I got you runnin, hiding for your life...
