Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Sep Seven Game Show Theme, artist - ATMOSPHERE. Album song Headshots: Se7en, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.01.2007
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Rhymesayers Entertainment
Song language: English
Sep Seven Game Show Theme |
The following program has been brought to you by Rhymesayers Entertainment |
The following program contains explicit lyrics |
and we the producers stay defiantly behind the views expressed in the following |
program. |
All right, all you players and player haters, once again it’s time for the «Sep Sev"game show |
Recorded live right here in lovely snowy Minnesota |
this is the game where we make the average player a star. |
Now, if you’ll join me, let’s give it up for the host of the «Sep Sev"game show |
that’s right, here he is, Mr. Sep Sev… |
YO, YO, YO, YO, YO, YO, fuck the money, everyone on the floor drop |
I want all the food in the bag, and I ain’t tryin' to hear that soar talk |
Stole the dinner and freaked it to the freeway |
Flipped the screenplay, and made every love scene a three-way |
Sound track recorded here in Minnesnowda |
Tastes like ambrosia |
Disinfects pen holders |
Yo, let’s hold our breath and show your chest, if you’re proud of it |
And wake me back to safety if you see me falling out of it |
Under a full moon, the color? |
of mind is a mucous? |
See your in the distance, the images riveting |
Given the way the clouds moved, it fucked with the lighting |
Grabbed me by the thoughts and pulled me tight like a kite string |
All right, let’s hear it for contestant number one |
What’s your name sir? |
Yo, MC famous, the killer |
Okay Mr. Anus Driller, you want to play the next round for a new Lexus with |
matching socks? |
Or air on the horny Miami based video |
or do you just want to take the phony looking fifty dollar bills and run with |
money? |
Yo, I want the sex man, just give chicks man, just, just let me touch 'em man! |
Now what If I spent, my whole day ?, on getting bent, and now I can’t afford my |
rent |
Do I grab a crowbar to your back door (Back door) |
or hit up Super America for the cash drawer? |
(Fast forward) |
I should be honest, cause even my outer conscience, |
Knows the odds of blowing up are equal to people waking up from sleeping, |
Keeping me from retrieving kingdoms and bed time stories, |
Used to bore me with, positioned in the orbit of my imagination |
Small portion, even that much, flustered by the drug fell in lust with the rush |
Hush, maybe somewhere in it I became a cynic, |
but your sexy grin gets less attractive by the minute |
The planets in my head now rotate around the mind |
The substance, the bug shit, all in my circumference |
And I function |
Like I don’t give a fuck if you grasp it |
Resent the bitch that don’t and cast it under the masses; |
I asked, «Is that right?"I answered, «Does it matter?» |
I was glancing at how you fancy the passion, bastard |
How fast you scale the ladder to jump |
I’d rather just flunk than gather your junk |
(Yo dog, you should blast that punk) |
Alright, this next round our contestant is gonna have to slam |
a whole bottle of expensive firewater, chase it with a forty of malt liquor |
smoke a blunt, load a gun and sell records to 14 year olds all over the country |
And the first one of you genocidal fashion fantasy fucks to go platinum wins |
Wins what?! |
Mr. Announcer, tell them what they’ll win! |
Well, they’ll win respect, lot’s and lot’s of props! |
Pissed on the Asti Spumonte, sippin' kamekazi |
Shoulda called mommy when you saw me pull up in? |
The rest of you’re life’s a flashback when I jump out that hatchback |
Here’s your tape, give me my cash back |
I’m on tracks, and that’s that, in fact that’s all you need |
Either take some kind of lead, or fall to your knees and bleed |
How’s your scene? |
And how’s that rental running? |
And how’s the weed selling? |
And how’s the demo coming? |
Me and my participants, be the reason why you and you crew bit your lips |
Stick this in your mouth to cleanse it |
The fuckin' prop is too expensive |
Make’s me want to end it (Repent kid) |
My advice is from here on out you purchase yellow boxers |
That way when your bitch does your laundry, she won’t tell her moms about the |
stains created |
when I skated across that flat service you refer to as lyrical endowment |
That content, that conscience, run down to that? |