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Tytuł: Simon Says Remix

  • Wykonawca: Method Man
  • Wy¶wietleń: 295
[Pharoahe Monch]
  GET THE FUCK UP!
  Simon says "GET THE FUCK UP!"
  Throw ya hands in the sky (buck buck buck buck buck!)
  Queens is in the back sippin 'Gnac, y'all wassup?
  Girls, rub on your titties (yeah)
  Yeah fuck it I said it rub on ya titties
  New York City gritty committee, pity the fool that act shitty
  In the midst of the calm, the witty
  
  [Lady Luck]
  Yo SHUT THE FUCK UP!
  Luck said "SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
  Bitches in the back, like crack get it cut up
  I speak on behalf of them broads you call stuck up
  Act like a man and get cocked, smacked or fucked up
  Pull the truck up, Luck you know the name
  Assed out in the bleachers stay shittin on the game
  I suppose what you're spittin is flames, cowards
  Know your crew was vaginal, I could smell the dooch powder
  Summer's Eve, I drop degrees chill
  Come four by four, lose one like Dru Hill
  Stay fly till you air sick, now that's ill
  Two choices, either squeeze or peel, now that's real
  
  [Pharoahe Monch]
  WHAT THE FUCK'S goin on here, just a minute now, hold up
  Sinister wit hit the time I diminish him finish him, roll up
  When I'm, ? cinematography state of mind
  My rap trip, rip, clip, say the rhyme
  Shit, I spectacular run hit spit bitches venacular
  Miraculous rhyme flow, back track to the Immaculate
  Binaca blast nigga that's fast, son I'll box ya
  Ladies rub the ta-ta's, bras, titties and knockers on the floor
  OWWW! Fellas pull ya cock out
  On the verge to splurge verbs for third round knock out
  Uh I bust a rhyme that dust frustrated rappers
  Dust crush competition, lights out like the Clapper
  The mic ripper, whip a nigga like a slave
  Separate him from him from his fam, he don't know how to behave
  Now, drag his ass, bag dun for his loot
  Figure me to give a nigger-y twenty-one gun salute
  That's seven shots for Tupac
  Seven for Biggie Smalls
  Seven for Freaky Tah up in your neighborhood malls
  How's that, fat action packed rap remain tame
  Pharoahe fuckin Monch, ain't a damn thing changed
  
  [Redman]
  Yo yo get the fuck up
  Funk Doctor Spot said "Get the fuck up"
  I got a bitch named Nina and I tuck her
  I leave a nigga hangin like ya mom's muffler
  Snuff her, then my boys follow up
  Respect like the Fonze, you see the collar up
  I spit out a bullet, load the barrel up
  I kamikaze ya town off a Arab bus
  Karat cut, yeah mami pull over
  I bend ya pussy like for years I knew yoga
  I'm too smoked up, I can't remember me
  Off Hennesy, that's why I carry Mini-Me
  I need fifty feet when my performance starts
  I push a armored car wit ?Lauren Harts?
  Nineteen inches, I'm not on the charts
  Doc turnin dark off a warning shot
  Drive off and pop, six in ya hood
  [Monch] Fuck the limelight, we rhyme tight, plus snatch the goods
  Yea-yeah my nigga, one rhyme you fold over
  I'm hot-headed cuz I walk wit cold shoulders
  Yeah GET THE FUCK UP!
  
  [Pharoahe Monch]
  Simon Says "GET THE FUCK UP!"
  Throw ya hands in the sky (buck buck buck buck buck!)
  
  [Redman]
  Jersey in the back jackin cars now wassup!
  Girls, rub on ya titties
  (Yeah) That's right I said it, rub on ya titties
  Brick City gritty committee
  Pity the fool that act shitty, in the midst of the calm, the witty
  
  [Method Man]
  Yo yo get the fuck up
  Yo yeah I said it, get the fuck up
  Walk through Shaolin after dark, you get stuck up
  Seek and destroy, baddest boy when I'm puffed up
  Ya know my name, and Pharoahe Moch, why we came what?
  We off the chain, plus we plottin on the chain, what?
  Know ya role, by the way tuck ya gold
  And you and your mic ? on down the road
  Assholes are like opinions, everybody got to have one
  Shootin in the sky tryin to blast sun
  Zero to sixty in a second, pull a fast one
  Fifty cent flashin they hate us wit a passion
  Mashin, still fresh in three-day old fashion
  Your plaid, I'm stripes, together we be flashin
  Here's a Tunnel banger
  Wu-Tang death penalty, the gas chamber
  This gon' hurt me more than it hurts you
  Slap ya like the doctor the day your momma birthed you
  Just so you can feel me
  The same way I'ma feel this world when it kill me
  Even if time stands still, I'ma still be
  Underground and filthy, gotta have our Way like the Milky
  Innocent until I'm proven guilty
  Never got caught in the game of tag
  Momma never kept a boyfriend wit kids this bad
  No justice, RAIDER RUCKUS!
  Underground till we under ground
  But y'all first MOTHAFUCKERS!
  
  [Shabaam Sahdeeq]
  My thugs, throw up ya set
  And shorties rub on ya breasts
  GET THE FUCK UP, outta that dress, I palm tits
  You herbs get flipped like jeeps on mountain cliffs
  I'll rip through your chest, hollow-point talent tips
  Double-S, double the threat, double your bet
  Double up on that cash if you decide to invest
  You sound like Big, you sound like Jay, you sound like D
  And I bet, when I go plat, you'll sound like me
  Shabaam Sahdeeq, injure your fleet into delete
  Y'all crabs are weak, frail like a fiend's physique
  I stay on the street, stay on the beat, stay wit the heat
  Stay stickin fools like you for the rocks that gleam
  So toss that link, dummy, shoulda insured that link
  Straight to Canal I'll praise that link, then pawn that link
  You froze up, Sahdeeq says "Shut the fuck up!"
  Punk niggas get gun-butt up and tied up
  
  [Busta Rhymes]
  Busta Rhymes is like Hacksaw Jim Dugan
  Been thuggin, lovin the way we flood jewels for nothin
  Lay it over, another ambush we take over
  Yo we don't only get money, we cut the coke and cook the shake over
  You better guard your head right, especially if it's late at night
  Or find your picture of your autoposy up on the web site
  Yo if you ever violate my space
  Fuck a fat lip, I'll leave you wit a fuckin fat face
  Nigga, Busta Rhymes the handsome, I'll hold you for ransom ansom
  Like the ghost in a haunted house, I'll forever live in a mansion
  Bitches, snitches comin out and you know who's showin it
  Like when British civil servants pass secrets to the Soviets
  Y'all niggas is seemless blends of seemless friends
  Live on about ? ? on a bunch of seamless ends
  Collosal, me and my nigga Pharoahe Moncho
  The head honcho, gettin this money like Leonardo (do do do)
  Enough substance in the roughness
  Now watch it come around in an amazing large abundance
  Now let me clear the smoke screen you blow fiend
  Live nigga shit that'll rebuild your whole self-esteem
  Pledge allegiance to the flag of united live niggas of America
  Let us control and own the fuckin area
  Wildin in your whip until your crash the whole truck up
  And if ? get to you nigga you better GET THE FUCK UP!!!
  Hehehe