Urban Dance Squad - Good Grief - Sözleri

My style is triple, quadruple, damage for M.C.'s

I make 'em huff 'n puff like mufflers for Meineke

Human exhaust, you wanna g-get lost ?

Rhymes plus Exxon ride brains like Alain Prost

M.C. clowns, I blaze towns

I dragwheel skulls, leave with speed 'n dust cloud

All you monkeys, donkeys, alternative junkies

I'm strictly T-rex, 'n my rap just crunch, see

The jive 'n babble, throw heavy scrabble

Sparkles plus the bubbles plus the flavor like Snapple

All you so-called rebels heavy metal cattle

Some horses got force but I simply tame with saddle

Hunt a stunt like 'Red October', ain't crossin' over

Oops ! scud scrub ? patriot makes pulver

The music hits, fierce that it is

Check the brothers in the crowd that 'hiss'

Good grief



Industry check to mac, and wanna know me

I kick against control untamed like wild pony

So holy like tony, attract like Coney Island

My style man, don't need no master, flasher

Test a prankster gangster like a Gat much faster

Get the band aid, kid crunch hard knock

I sport more techniques confidential than Fort Knox

Sort of tool - Glock - automatic on the static

Synthetic - plastic?- you stay ready with the casket

I throw a style, freak wants to test it

It's crazy mega fab, makes your hottie cheer

I crush M.C. jaws who oughta be chandelier

And drop the litter - on the quitter

The survival-rival gets stronger

Much fitter

Worldwide you get served like stinky cheese

More force than a sexual intercourse

So M.C.'s please !

Brothers amaze - keep 'em all in a daze

With the wild funk blaze

Good grief



One time for your mind now, as I climb now

Step by step now, but Wagga Rep now

I write flavor like I was Wes Craven

People under my stairs steal like raven

Black with beaks wanna croak when spoken to

Some shitty nonsense beat, you gotta be jokin' too

The rhyme enforcer, rhythm courser

I 'spect you to respect with the force, well of course oh !

Don't give me the lip 

Like he thought that he could

I frown on bullshit like my name was clint eastwood

You come with fronts, stunts 'n poses

I welcome you to my jungle

Like my name was guns 'n roses

I blast the sound, you check the sound

You got to be down, you got to be down, like me, like Charlie Brown

Saying good grief










		
			



Bu döküman AkorMerkezi.com'da yayınlanmıştır. http://www.akormerkezi.com