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Tytuł: Bring The Pain

  • Wykonawca: Mindless Self Indulgence
  • Wy¶wietleń: 295
lemme tell you now:
  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