Mindless Self Indulgence
Mindless Self Indulgence - Bring The Pain songtekst
Je score:
i came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain let's go inside my astral plane find out my mental based on instrumental records hey so i can make monumental methods i'm not the king but niggaz is decaf i stick 'em for the cream check it just how deep can shit get - get deeper than your fists and brothers is mad pissed accept it in your cross colors clothes you crossed over and now ya totally crossed out and kriss kross who da boss niggaz get tossed to da side and i'm the dark side of the force of course it's the method man from the wu-tang clan i be hectic and comin' for that headpiece protect it fuck it two tears in a bucket niggaz want the ruckas? so bust it at me son now bust it stylez i get buckwild method man on some shit fuck'n niggaz foul son i'm sick insane crazy drivin' miss daisy how the fuck am i? now i got mine i'm swayze is it real son lemme know it's real son if its really real son lemme know it's real load it up and kill one load it up and kill one load it up and kill one if it's really real when i was a little stereo i used to be the champion i always wonder when i would be the number one - hey hey hey and now you listen to me darcon darcon - - - - - - - - - - and all you niggaz come and test me test me i'm gonna lick out your brains mothers wanna hang with the meth bring the rope cuz the only way you hang is by the neck nigga pump off a set comin' through all your projects take it as a threat or better yet it is a promise comin' like a vet on some old vietnam shit you can bet your bottom dollar that i'm on it and it'll get even worse word to god it's the wu comin' through takin' niggaz 'fore they're gone gone gone gone gone gone movin' to your left i came to represent and carve my name within your chest you can come test realize it's no contest son i'm the gun who won that old wild west quick on the draw with my hands on the floor lovin' all those goddamn funky rhymes galore check it cuz i think not when it's hip hop like propa rhymes be the proof when i'm drinkin' ninety proof vodka no OJ no no straw when you give it to me - yeah - give it to me raw i burn give it to me raw i burn chest hair i don't need no chemical blow to pull no ho - no all i need is chemical bank to pay her up is it real son lemme know it's real son if its really real son lemme know it's 1 2 3 4 kill one - fuck it up and kill one fuck it up and kill one lemme know it's real