Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Prankster, artist - Afu-Ra. Album song State Of The Arts, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 13.06.2005
Record label: Decon Media
Song language: English
Prankster |
Back in the days, I never snatched pocket books |
I just snatch ya mind up with the flow and the hook |
That’s right, be on alert, coming faster |
Corny mc’s, body snatcher with the rapture |
Dismember ya body, like I was a raptor |
Tuck ya eyes out, so you can’t see my laughter |
Don’t care how many gold and platinum plaques you got |
I put my foot in your ass, up in the spot |
A beast break necks, that’s right, you couldn’t sit through |
I’m bone crushing on the mic like a pitbull |
Foamin' at the mouth, ferocious, to start again |
Rockin' hardbody cardigen, with the timberlands |
P.F. |
drop the beat, Afu drop the grammar |
Was swift with the gift, old school like cold bangers |
The five mic slangin', head bangin', chitty chitty bang bangin' |
Name your whole rap crew, like I’m gang bangin' |
You ain’t no gangsta rapper, you’se an amateur |
I seen you back in the days, they used to laugh at ya |
You ain’t no gangsta, nigga, you just a poser |
I grab the mic and do it like it’s supposed ta' |
You ain’t no gangsta, nigga, you just a wanksta |
I schooled you back in the days, you just a prankster |
You ain’t no gangsta, rapper, you’se an amateur |
I saw you back in the days, they used to laugh at ya |
Am I brothers keeper? |
Don’t get swept beneath the rug |
Stomp these posers out, like they water bugs |
Tired of these rappers, with these ice mugs |
Clamining that they spitting slugs, but they spitting duds |
Tired of these fake thugs, that’s lighter than feathers |
With all that nonsense, they puttin together, screaming murder murder |
I thought they would of learned from Biggie and 2Pac |
That you can bring to life, what you spittin' in your art |
You ain’t no gangsta, nigga, you’se a wanksta |
I schooled you back in the days, you just a pranksta |
You ain’t no gangsta, rapper, you’se an amateur |
I saw you back in the days, they used to laugh at ya |
It’s Mr. Spectacular, tacular |
Bout to swat that ass out the sky like he gammara |
The flex of ego, on your little pedestool |
In front of your people, now what you wanna do? |
You can’t stop this hard rock, rock, ready to rock this |
I got lyrical ability, to bring ya hot shit |
I swat so many cats, it’s raining birds |
Cause I’m cold as ice, forget the ice in ya watch, kid |
Spit more flames than the back of a rocket |
Mic check, one-two, linin' up my targets |
I be the mad man in front of the cam |
That be stealing ya fans, yup, up on the red carpet |
Make more connections than Nextel, ring the bell |
On first connection, make ya fucking lips swell |
Make more noise than a terrorist attack |
I’m dangerous like anthrax, my voice burn up the wax |
Against the way, I put my self up on the map |
I’m a dope MC, I put the squeeze on the dope tracks |
Body care free, on the dope tracks |
A hundred round banana clip, leave you where you at |