People Under The Stairs
People Under The Stairs - Sterns To Western songtekst
Je score:
Kidd Lexus It's like fabulous, We all out keens, bless the talented So who's here to handle this I'm the prime candidate Keeping a far distance between me and the common folk doesn't matter if you shall rely to rip your monotone they call me L-E-X-U girl you know the rest I add an S because I'm special get well and got blessed So we can battle you n me on payperview Kid Lexus coming to a neighbourhood near you Now you in danger, shell shock, now you got caught Your plan wasn't well thought, yo, perhaps you should walk No need for lollygagging, especially when Brandon's rappin on the mic I'm like a cannon so it ain't hard to imagin turn my mic off, I gotta go, I gotta be alone I feel it now, I'm goin home, somebody please take me home Double K Ayo, I think that I should mention, the way that we be lynchin' utilizing the beat like housewives to the kitchen Man, it's Stephen Cool King, bring horror in ya life Causin pain and strife holdin a black knife No need for the violence cuckoo straighter hair like Violet Not worryin about the back talk we fuckin trains of thought derail ya whack emcees, while I rock on the track Take a puff on the black, man I don't wanna hear ya rap so don't do it in my presence, I rip ya like a gift destroy your whole direction, you're going to need protection Aw fuck it, I'm like sherm on your final term paper we drivin you nuts, just put a P in the suss yeah man I'm kinda clever like old jewish dudes Put the pen to the paper and what ya got's a fresh caper matter the dappa dee and the threads are 88 and I ain't getting off the mic till I clean my funky plate Ayo, we're not done, we're not done More shows, free booze, bad news, and new cruise Fool we come to ya town be prepared to get slapsed So sing along to the funk and wait for the homey to rap It's like lalalala laaaaaa lalalalalaaaaa lalalalalaaaaa lalalalalaaaa Thes One The park from the normal tracks when I brainstorm I rain forever and every last track sort of fits That's scap they stole my shit that most cleverly writ so witness that poetic aesthetic perfection spittin cat publicly published the beat phat with a ph deconstruct corrupt mcs that front bay Oh well amazin all that junk punk I sunk ya battleship dunce once my lips spit arightoutta ya spine Soundwaves, thes on the dotted line, and skip the fine print when I imprint my mint monogram of fame on ya skeletal frame, since I stock graph the vat like Rustonium stock caps they will make ya needle skip, make ya caps clog, scuff ya shell toes I flip the fake rappers like Al pogs I got a rhyme for every fine girl and wittier like jam the track like beavers on a railroad near a river when I deliver the cool concentrate it shivers ya prostate I get pissed off when I gotta wait for rappers to finish their freestyles every time I rhyme my train of thought I turn style to Bart, I'm worthwhile like the Blemids chillin in Springfield I'm ill and still don't do no shows in Shelbyville At jams I kill competition like the running man running things like airbrushed jeans a gaddam.