Souls Of Mischief
Souls Of Mischief - Bumpshit songtekst
Je score:
[Chorus] "Its the- Ill Plusta Phesto D., O. Lindsey, T. Massey so whatchyou wanna be?? Us!! Just peep the bump and thump, you ain't got no choice so throw your hands up!" [Opio:] You're stuck, crucified you'll lose don't try your luck, I'll cut 'em up run through and ruin mc's they can suck my dick the Hieroglyphic Kingdom bring em down to earth they're worthless worse since the beginning and I'm winning offending mc's they can't accept it inside he hide his fear of theory that shit was weary and I hear he dont be coming off the top he better drop and give me fifty cause if he dont shape up I take whats mine and at your title, what you write I'll demolish polish up your skills just forget all this call it quits it's overwhelming you keep failing to impress you're sluggish, I'll put a fake mc to rest I got pages for the courageous amazes fazes my opponent leave the microphone bic you're flow is basic, youll get erased quick stick to fantasizing you're wack and deny the fact that I win ease the pain, I still remain the king I sing a lullaby to nullify the lazy ass lame famous mc even a nameless mc gets unfriendly so we out to check em direct from O. Lindsey [A-Plus:] Why you gotta to do the kind of shit that I hate? I find your shit to be fake, your mind ain't fit to create Cease see you later, mack Accidents waitin to happen trying to fade the Adam They bags is broke when they attack him cause I play the mack, see that's an everyday thing you can peep these hoes jocking in whenever we hang I gets game from 'em, see hieroglyphics came from the east side of O. getting jocked when we try to go to these funk missions with a grudge written overnight rappers come wishin but Plus hold the mic and slap you with the bump shit them hoes jock me the most, wish I was there when them cowards jumped Donnie and Los we own all mics in the solar system you gets dropped when the Souls come reposessing props with the older wisdom and the beat it just drops and I hold the rhythm Souls of mischief is the coldest [Chorus] To all you crews thinkin we was weak as you well would you listen to a doozy, you're lucky that we dissaprove and frown at that candy coated cartoon clown shit we don't allow it, (naw that would make us some hypocrites) you scared yourself into popping lip and jest suckers saving face but catch it in the chest so just abate your haste To activate your _ cause he eat the best rhymer stop your crew up with jemima I got the tool just _ of the drama Yo but that's madness, my shit's the bump If I didn't have hits, I'd persist to pump my mind to capacity till the shit just dump out on the sidewalk and only then would I sqawk and babble nonsense ripping this shit long as I'm conscious and even in your dreams you'll fiend and follow it no paths you better quit 'for y'all and get with the vocabulary lunchmeats suckers smoke pads of something lack the gumption get smacked when we up in the house Niggas are fake they gettin baked trying to penetrate the inferno I surround the microphone wit cause to the highest degrees mc's marvel over me I never reconsider getting rid of them they perishing embarassing as the air gets thin I stare em in the eyes before I wear them in its no comparison to the immaculate you get ramshackled with the mic lanced with the javelin for rattling off at the lip (Get off my dick) But you can think what'f I stigmatized if you tried it's circumstantial you niggas are unadvanced with the mic in avalanche you don't have a chance just dance to the beat I'm notorious for bics niggas trying to come to grips but its inevitable you'll never know execution is your only resoultion so retrace your steps or face your death [Chorus]