Kid Capri

Kid Capri - One On One songtekst

Je score:

Yeah once again presenting  Kid Capri
 Ras Kass the waterproof MC  Punchline

 (Ras Kass)
 These faggot MCs be on skis with the microphone though
 But it's all downhill hitting trees like Sonny Bono
 Name a nigga I couldn't burn and he probably created the Earth in six days
 I shot at Jesus with a tech fives times
 Hanging the pope with six strings  the name is Ras Kass
 Might eat a little pussy but I don't kiss ass homeboy
 I'm righteous and wicked and this acquisition of riches is like
 Selling bean pods and still fucking white bicthes

 (Punchline)
 I rap crazy, you better get fifty niggas to blaze me
 Or ace me, been rhyming since 220 AD
 You feel gazy?, I'm top ten with the raps
 Off the list you scratch, like serial numbers on gats
 I lace tracks with ill lines 20 bar rhymes
 My verses got long sentences like jail times
 Press rewind, listen to jams when I cool out
 I only fuck a bitch in the park if she juiced out
 Going new routes to maintain my composure
 Anticipated while you still screaming to get exposure
 Rap soldier in the cipher I'm first to set it
 My lyrics get the U.S. Open without playing tennis

 (Ras Kass)
 Vindictive my voice pitch is beyond John Blaze
 I'm John Cremation, you conversation with aspirations
 Of me leaving blood stains from Earth to Venus
 Them so-called rap stars will still be living
 with they moma like an unborn fetus
 As soon as you step on stage I'ma destroy you with the truth
 Like the Ricki Lake show, don't come out the soundproof booth
 Or poof, plucked in your bubblegoose
 A lost angel, I strangle at an angle that's obtuse

 (Punchline)
 Yo, my styles viscous, put niggas before bitches
 Collect riches, bone chickens without trickin
 And stay spitting mad rhymes in your direction
 Always repping get you open like seasections
 I rhyme greata set it off without Jada
 My flava leave a nigga shook like vibrators
 Rap composer of the hit your styles over
 I make an MC cry just like Robin on Ophra
 Give you the cold shoulder guess who rhymes slicker
 I gross figures, shed light on shady niggas
 And write rhymes, roast niggas that take mine
 Gave birth to so many styles I should have my tubes tied
 One time, when rappers need concentration
 Embarrass I nigga, like getting caught masterbating
 I'm fascinating, I make you wallow in your sorrow
 Clutch the bottle you get your childish style fondled
 My rap tactics make you want to go home and practice
 Match this, drop jewels like Biago Rackis
 I come rough for all niggas that front
 I'm all that five mics and quotable for the month

 (Ras Kass)
 I be on some bullshit like the unamits and vigorous rhyming
 And until Buchwhick Bill starts dunking on Kobe Bryant
 I'm applying pressure, check out my melody
 The eighteenth letter, the first letter
 the nineteenth letter for cheddar
 And get a barrette explosive tip shredders to make the rum-redder
 To make the deader then Coretta
 Scott King's husband who had a dream
 I get in you with no Vaseline
 And burn rubber so I tap that ass like Savion Glover

 (Punchline)
 That the sedative cause your shits repetitive
 And played out, tried to run game but it got rained out
 Wasn't thinking about this style until we came out
 Took a detour when some of ya'll went the same route
 Thoughts about doing Punchline make me tickle
 When my flow changes like pennies, dimes and nickels
 Organized rhymes we make the girls realize
 We humiliate niggas like a small dick size
 Now you wanna click nines, front and sip wines
 Take mine, can't mess with Ras and Punchline
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Copyrights:

Auteur: C. Bedford, M. Green, David Anthony Love, John Austin (2), Rashaan Truell

Componist: ?

Publisher: Trackmasters Records, LLC

Details:

Uitgegeven in: 1998

Taal: Engels

Komt voor op: Soundtrack to the Streets (1998)

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