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Oh Shit feat. Psycho Les (Beatnuts)

Mareko
Popularity ยท Low
๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ง English ยท Original

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Lyrics

Ay yo I'm sipping on some Cognac With a baseball hat to match the throwbacks When you see me fall back Or else brrrat! Hold that Stop procrastinating nigga and roll that Get the wastebasket, crack an L Get the cock out of your ass And snap out of that faggot spell The industry got you under Believe in the hype, then you wonder Why the single's hot but the LP sucks Now you like "Damn, I should have got Beatnuts" Guaranteed satisfaction Every track is programmed to bounce asses Across the global, you can hear my vocal Echo over the mountains like a yodel It's Big Syke baby, straight from the cartel With more flavors than Carvel I'm able to fill tall buildings to the capacity And pack guns like Butch Cassidy Open fire rapidly and rob banks Then change my looks, shave my face, now I'm Tom Hanks A castaway, anybody get in the way I'm a blast away and end the fucking masquerade Deceptikonz, Beatnuts, make 'em say Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh! From New York to South Bronx make 'em say Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh! Deceptikonz, Beatnuts, make 'em say Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh! From New York to South Bronx make 'em say Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh! It's finally on, yeah we at it again Back with these rappers full of more shit than a catheter is In drinking games I'm a national rep What you thought was throwing up W's, those are capital M's My record dropping lines like a fisherman You'd swear my pen's possessed by the mind of Spike Milligan Bad jelly and witches and shit Man I'll eat a watermelon and shoot your crew up with the pips My syllabus is definitely hands-on My record beats nuts, you cats just jack off I stand my ground like I'm standing out your building Chilling with a group of chubby Samoan children Oh shit, yeah, this is that dope shit That parents tell your kids to just say "no" shit And if you're doubting these lines then you crazy cats Must have lost the plot like a clumsy screenwriter Yo the cordless mic snatcher Creep stalking your fortress from out of orbit So no one does proceed with pure caution Musical massacre, elimination killed many Now we're mourning the dead, White Sunday in New York City Kiwi civilians with weapons causing mass concussion Microphone check, check, explosive dialect Oh shit, this is definitely that hot shit From another planet, that typical UFO shit A Tongan horseman galloping on a stallion Brushing aside beef like a serious vegetarian Devollo, our name stuck on you like a tattoo A permanent impression engraved on you wack-ass fools Deceptikonz, Beatnuts, make 'em say Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh! From New York to South Bronx make 'em say Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh! Deceptikonz, Beatnuts, make 'em say Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh! From New York to South Bronx make 'em say Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh! Get that paper, make 'em say oh shit! When you see me pull up to the club You gon' be like "oh shit, oh shit!" When you see the sluts and the butts on them Mi gente latina, tiren la manos arriba Colombia, come on, oh shit Stop that, that funk bounce That ugly face music Deceptikonz, Beatnuts, hitting the bong Get up in that ass like a thong We out, 2003 Peace!