Results for: i m gonna get you baby bizarre
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BEASTIE BOYS .sonar 2007 "Ch-Check It Out" "Ch-Check It Out"
All you trekkies and tv addicts
Don't mean to diss
Don't (More) "Ch-Check It Out"
All you trekkies and tv addicts
Don't mean to diss
Don't mean to bring static
All you klingons in the fucking house
Grab your backstreet friend and get loud
Blowin' doors off hinges
I'll grab you with the pinchers
And no i didn't retire
I'll snatch you up
With the needle nose pliers
Like mutual of omaha
Got the ill boat
You've never seen before
Gliding in the glades
And like lorne greene
You know i get paid
Like caprese and with the basil
Not goofy like darren or hazel
I'm a mother fucking nick at night with
Classics rerunning that you know all right
Now remain calm no alarm
Cause my farm ain't fat
So what's up with that
I've got friends and family that i respect
When i think i'm too good
They put me in check
So believe when i say i'm no better than you
Except when i rap
So i guess it ain't true
Like that y'all and you just don't stop
Guaranteed to make your body rock
Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out
What-wha-what-what-what's it all about
Work-wa-work-work-work-wa-work it out
Let's turn this motherfuckin' party out
Said, "doc what's the condition
I'm a man that's on a mission"
Said, "son, you'd better listen
Stuck in your ass
Is an electrician"
Like a scientist
Mmmm when i'm applying this
Method of controlling my mind
Like einstein and the rappin' duke combined
Hey baby bubba now what the deal
I didn't know you go for that mass appeal
Some call it salugi
Some hot potato
I stole your mic and you won't see it later
Cause i work magic like a magician
I add up like a mathematician
I'm a bank cashier
Engineer
I wear cotton but i don't wear sheer
Shazam and abracadabra
In the whip i'm gonna cruise past ya
Yo money, don't chump yourself
Put that shit back on the shelf
Light rays blazin'
You're out of phase
And my crews amazin'
We're working on the record yo
So stay patient
Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out
What-wha-what-what-what's it all about
Work-wa-work-work-work-wa-work it out
Let's turn this motherfuckin' party out
Now, i go by the name of the king adrock
I don't wear a cup nor a jock
I bring the shit that's beyond bizarre
Like miss piggy
Who moi
I am the one with the clientele.
You say, "adrock, you rock so well"
I've got class like pink champale
Mca grab the mic before the mic goes stale
Don't test me
They can't arrest me
I'll fake right cross-over and shoot lefty
You look upset, yo calm down
You look cable guy dunked off of your crown
I flow like smoke out a chimney
You never been me
You wanna rap but what you're making ain't hip hop b
Get your clothes right out the dryer
Put armor all up on your tire
Sport that fresh attire
Tonight we goin' out set the town on fire
Set the town ablaze
Gonna stun and amaze
Ready to throw a craze
Make your granny shake her head
And say, "those were the days"
Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out
What-wha-what-what-what's it all about
Work-wa-work-work-work-wa-work it out
Let's turn this motherfuckin' party out (Less)
Royce Da 5'9 Ft. Tre little-Malcom X (D12 diss) *Royce 5'9* D-12, worst fucking rap group ever (You ready?) Royce Da 5'9" would like (More) *Royce 5'9* D-12, worst fucking rap group ever (You ready?) Royce Da 5'9" would like to apologize to the family of my homeboy Bugz for lettin' that line leak out the radio, it was a long story how it happened D-12 though, y'all better quit actin' like that wadn't my man too Like I was tryna disrespect him or somethin', I was tryna disrespect y'all 'Cause that's what I'm doin' (gun-cocking) from here on in My new name from now on, don't even call me Royce Da 5'9" no mo' Call me Malcolm X, 'cause e'rybody in the city wanna kill me (*gun shooting sounds*) I'm Malcolm X now hahahahaha, we gon' see who goin, I ain't goin nowhere motherfucker We gon' see, e'rybody who against me, nigga I'm mad (BITCH) Haha, yeah, there's only one problem Everytime you motherfuckers breathe on the mic It's a motherfuckin' lie nigga, nobody believes you (*echoes*) [Chorus] We gon' beat yo' ass DOWN (2x) Y'all niggaz sound like y'all write y'all rhymes with motherfuckin' crayons, BITCHES *Royce* Yeah, what rap crew I gotta snatch up out the game (bitch) Who must I smack for sayin my name? Somebody gon' die, it's probably YOU You couldn't fit Bizarre's body in my shoes Niggaz quick to talk, all hood 'til I pop up Plus, you just act tough cause Suge got locked up I am above y'all, when you droppin your raps to diss me I only recognize the top of your hats And I don't like Proof, punk-ass, he think he tough He keep thirty niggaz with him, cause he weak as fuck! I ever catch you by yourself, I'ma fuck you up Snatch your little cheap-ass chain and piece you up You better hope you and the white boy keep in touch And be a good little hype man, or your lease is up Since Slim signed 50, I don't see your teeth as much That's good, cause you got a grill like a fuckin truck! DAMN HOMIE, it's history, over, hang it up Go somewhere and hang up some 50 posters, PUNK You speak too late, y'all prolly gon' go up to them awards and get yo' ass whooped by B2K I just wish Eminem would stop tellin' everybody he ain't speakin' to me Like I'm one of his hoes or somethin' How 'bout this, I ain't speakin to you, chump And I'ma keep pickin on your weak ass crew You, BITCH, Bizarre you a fat stutterin fuck You a joke, I choke whoever buttered you up I've been ridin by your house, you don't come out too much You hidin, when I find you I'ma snatch you out of that truck and tie your fat stankin ass to your couch and just FEED YOU, you already look like you about to bust Nigga you can run or hide; I'll be on your porch with a cheeseburger tryin to lure you outside! 'Cause he's in it, Bizarre say G-g-g-g-g-g-unit I bet you throw some extra "g's" in it Just like a stutterin' fool, can't reach intelligence He sweats when he raps, cuz he got a speach impediment You, BITCH, Porky's pig and Porky's tomb About to dig his own grave with a fork and spoon You, BITCH, Denaun and Swifty please Give it a year,both y'all be wreckin' 50's lease What do I know, that other nigga y'all got in your group I don't even know his name, but he can shovel my snow You, BITCH, let's face it I gave it to y'all My lil' sister got six puppies that's braver than y'all (puppies barking) Niggaz is startin' the beef I'm 'bout to end with the quickness I'm 'bout to end this quicker than Bizarre can finish a biscuit Quicker than quick shit, y'all ain't felt the half Quicker than Eminem can pinch Elton's ass Don't call me, I ain't ready to squash ya yet, kiss my ASS I don't wanna talk to ex, I am so sick I should be compared to cancer Y'all throw up ya dukes and don't swing like Fred G. Sanford I be makin' muh'fuckers scratch they heads when I rhyme Y'all lil' niggaz crack ya heads then rhyme, go play; you lil punk ass niggaz, y'all can scream and yell all you want I feel like I'm battlin' Kenan & Kel You, BITCH, none o' y'all can put in the card to kill Paul better call me, like he called Benzino Matter of fact, I might even do a song with Ray Sign with Murder Inc. and hit you with a song-a-day [Chorus] We gon' beat yo' ass DOWN (4x) *Royce* I don't even want you lil' punks to think I'm mad Y'all lil' niggaz are Ninja Turtles, you're nothing Nothin', you not on my level, I will beat yo bosses ass, nigga Tre Little, bring it on *Tre Little* Tre Little, the baby gorrilla, I'm just that guy I'm 5'6", got stacked lines, shit that high, I'm ridin' FUCK you and your commercial appeal I turn yo' head into blue 'n yellow Purple Hills I bet you whatever that nobody beats my family Eminem, Nelly said that he'll eat you like candy What did you do, got on the phone and called him up You don't wanna talk to Royce, but you talk to us You, BITCH, yo' crew some local hoes I'll hit you harder than that white girl that broke your nose You and Royce can squash this with one talk Step around from your security and talk to that man I understand you backin' yo' crew, but diss my brother Anythin' that happen to him, somethin' gonna happen to you And I don't give a fuck for that, nigga, I'll do life I advise you to stop; yo' money don't buy you stripes Only thing that money brings is fake niggaz and problems Followed by niggaz who hate fake niggaz and rob 'em But you niggaz is WACK; Denaun I'ma stab you So many times, I'ma feel bad when you collapse! You niggaz is so BITCH you make me sick to my stomach Every beat that you ever made sound like it was missin' somethin' Timbaland lookin' ass, nigga, my style is realer What producer you ever know only good for album filler We gon' beat yo' ass DOWN (2x) *Royce 5'9* You!, Yea, punk ass niggaz, yea we in the streets now too, nigga Big Homie's out nigga, what up *Tre Little* Yea you studderin ass motherfuckers, what y'all thought My brother here ain't have no backbone? Nigga, it's on when I see y'all Proof what the fuck you thinkin' of nigga, that's cash boy Need the white boy to get y'all started ass niggaz Fuck y'all hoes, I told Royce I ain't like that motherfucka Faggots, I smack the shit outta any one o' y'all niggas 7 Mile bet one nigga What the fuck y'all thought nigga y'all'll get bought bitch Street orientated; y'all motherfuckers hate it Learn how to flow stop bein' mad y'all bitches Trick, trick, when I catch yo' bitch ass, yeah dude Asked about cash nigga, you comin' to yo' doom You'll end up like click boom, bitch Rock City motherfucker, regardless Get the point bitch, or get the hollows motherfucker It's Cash Flow, bitch, Big Homie (Less)
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