Masters Of Illusion

Masters Of Illusion - Scared Straight songtekst

Je score:

"When three guys, will slide into your cell

Wrap your ass up in that blanket

They gon' kick your ass over the side of that bed

and do bodily harm to your asshole, by stickin a dick in it"



[Motion Man]

They looks at my styles, like a crackhead does upon a rock

and pipe to get hype, I got 'em dirty fiendin for me

Losin pounds for my sounds, that knows and tilts consumes the liquor

'til the 40 gets killed, I bite that apple lick my lips like LL

Doin it well, shock the world, charm your momma

Verbalizin your girl, don't fuck with sorcerers with lyric bombs

You know we got spells, abra-abra-abracadabra

Grabba, this rapper can abra-abra-cadaver another rapper

Change yo' range yo

I drop my styles offer than an obtuse angle, I'm threatening

Miraculous things be happening, every time I spit

the verbal through speakers

I'm on the court while you sorry niggaz sit in the bleachers

Cheerleaders, fear leaders, sissy niggaz with skirts

I'm catchin waves like white dude surfers with tans

My King Kong style, climbin buildings, holdin yo' bitch

I'm dichotomy to everybody, I'm fuckin melodic

Niggaz comin out with drama, lookin mad histrionic

I bounce uniquely, get up on this land, destroy you like water

Yo mother nature that's my hoe and I been pimpin her bro

My conversation's built like Spider-Man, it's neighborhood friendly

but expands like Apocalypse for niggaz that's envy

I back yo' team up ten yards cause yo' partner was holdin

I sacked your quarterback with fifty sacks, this money I'm foldin

He just an inmate with a cock up in you, {?} my style



[Chorus: x4]

"Dead as a mouse"

"Your butt's in jail", "so why you pushin it"

"In the house of pain"



[Kool Keith]

You got to handle it Bill, yeah, yo check the reason

I hear you scream loud, your cell door's full of semen

Prisoners catch you, posin hard like a statue

Too many men in your crew, but not there wit'chu

You Coppertone, put your wig on, you start to moan

Walkin your hallway, your panties shine, in the doorway

Cell block, you stop, inmates, you on they jock

Seein protection, big men hit your midsection

You gettin bumrushed, by TV's with a yeast infection

You on call, for a warden standin by the kitchen

You snitched my man, here's a tape, take a listen

You on security watch, walkin by the door

I explore more, raw to the deepest core

Yeah, have you on 4's



"You are his kid, you gotta clean this cell

You gotta wash his drawers and socks

And he wanna fuck you in your ass, you'll let him

And if he wanna sell you to another prisoner, he'll do that too"



[Chorus]
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Taal: Engels

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