Mf Doom
Beef Rapp
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5.22 МБ
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164 кбит/c
Длительность
4:39
15
| Добавлена 20 февраля 2008 пользователем AND1 |
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Текст песни Beef Rapp
[MF Doom]
Beef rap
Could lead to gettin teeth capped
Or even a wreath for mom dukes on some grief crap
I suggest ya change ya diet
It can lead ta high blood pressure if ya fry it
Or even a stroke, heart attack, heart disease
It ain't no startin back once arteries start ta squeeze
Take the easy way out phony, until then
They know they wouldn't be talkin that bologna in the bullpen
So disgustin, pardon self as I discuss this
They talk a wealth of shit and they ain't never seen the justice
Bust this, like a cold milk from out the toilet
Two batteries some Brillo and some foil, he'a boil it
He be better off on PC glued
And it's a feud so don't be in no TV mood
Every week it's mystery meat, seaweed stewed [food, we need food!]
He wears a mask just to cover the raw flesh
A rather ugly brother with flows that's gorgeous
Drop dead joints hit the whips like bird shit
They need it like a hole in they head or a third tit
Her bra smell, his card say: aw hell
Barred from all bars and kicked out the Carvel'
Keep a cooker where the jar fell
And keep a cheap hooker that's off the hook like Ma Bell
Top bleeding, maybe fella took the loaded rod gears
Stop feeding babies colored sugar-coated lard squares
The odd pairs swears and God fears
Even when it's rotten, we've gotten through the hard years
I wrote this note around New Year's
Off a couple a shots and a few beers, but who cares?
Beef rap
Could lead to gettin teeth capped
Or even a wreath for mom dukes on some grief crap
I suggest ya change ya diet
It can lead ta high blood pressure if ya fry it
Or even a stroke, heart attack, heart disease
It ain't no startin back once arteries start ta squeeze
Take the easy way out phony, until then
They know they wouldn't be talkin that bologna in the bullpen
So disgustin, pardon self as I discuss this
They talk a wealth of shit and they ain't never seen the justice
Bust this, like a cold milk from out the toilet
Two batteries some Brillo and some foil, he'a boil it
He be better off on PC glued
And it's a feud so don't be in no TV mood
Every week it's mystery meat, seaweed stewed [food, we need food!]
He wears a mask just to cover the raw flesh
A rather ugly brother with flows that's gorgeous
Drop dead joints hit the whips like bird shit
They need it like a hole in they head or a third tit
Her bra smell, his card say: aw hell
Barred from all bars and kicked out the Carvel'
Keep a cooker where the jar fell
And keep a cheap hooker that's off the hook like Ma Bell
Top bleeding, maybe fella took the loaded rod gears
Stop feeding babies colored sugar-coated lard squares
The odd pairs swears and God fears
Even when it's rotten, we've gotten through the hard years
I wrote this note around New Year's
Off a couple a shots and a few beers, but who cares?
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