Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Disturbed (Dirty), artist - Blame One and ExileAlbum song Disturbed b/w Supreme Beings Digi 12", in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 10.11.2008
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Soulspazm
Song language: English
Disturbed (Dirty) |
Blame One |
I don’t care which chick docked a famous rich hip hopper |
Phantom of the opera type slick, which doctor |
Mad scientist, topper with the vocal, I’m current |
Almost 33 homie, yeah, a hell of endurance |
Young veteran, chop off the tongue and take the head of men |
Young bucks know me, I ex so much better blend |
I like to set a trend. |
Never tried to follow fools |
Knowledge, wisdom all withstanding, son I never hollow jewels |
Swallow the bottle full throttle just like a menace |
I mash around Cali from Diego to Venice |
Let me replenish. |
I’m far from finished, young apprentice |
Lab coat on the floor, drop science in a sentence |
Broken beaker, got you open to the speaker |
Cats’ll close a eye like we were hoping you were weaker |
Nope and call me teacher fam, fuck what you heard |
I’m a master of words, word, I’m mentally disturbed |
Blame One |
Disturbed, I walk around like I’m wearing a crown |
Talking to myself, cats steady staring me down |
Clown, I heard you got lost, that could write precise |
But I murderize cats on the mic to bytes |
Cause I’m disturbed I walk around like I’m wearing a crown |
Talking to myself, cats steady staring me down |
Clown, I heard you got lost, that could write precise |
But I murderize cats on the mic to bytes |
Yo, this black on black crime |
Pardon me my G |
This black and white rhyme |
Clap the black nine and smash your trash lines |
Put your ass to sleep, goodnight, it’s nap time |
Listen, the best rapper in the world is Sean |
The worst rapper in the world is you |
Skank rapper having promise on |
Bus back at your girl and you |
Fuck you bitch niggas wanna do |
Listen, flows phenomenal, off the chain |
But really, take off your chain |
I ain’t joking around, toting the pound |
Only think I’m a clown like homie the clown |
I will put down the pound and pound on you |
Then pick up the pound, its rounds on you (cheers) |
Y’all niggas ain’t ready for ruck, how you on it bitch |
Hand me ya gun, let me know |
I’m not playing, horsing around or joking. |
Don’t sigh kid |
Sleep in my squalor, staple open your eyelids |
Saw off the hand that you wrote your best verse with |
It gets hectic, I protected all word smiths |
I’m in the dragon’s lair writing in the dungeon |
Spirits of the past appear to me when summoned |
I’m the mist that the winter escort in the night |
I’m like photosynthesis absorbing the light |
You’re possessing the words you are sure to recite |
Duplicating my sound takes much more then a mic |
Hardcore when I write the final passage to your worldly fate |
But maybe John might forgive you at the pearly gate |
Set you straight and unless your great |
I set back, set traps, watch you catch the bait |
Always test the fate, they get kicked to the curb |
So fuck what you heard, yo I’m mentally disturbed |
Blame One |
Disturbed, I walk around like I’m wearing a crown |
Talking to myself, cats steady staring me down |
Clown, I heard you got lost, that could write precise |
But I murderize cats on the mic to bytes |
Cause I’m disturbed I walk around like I’m wearing a crown |
Talking to myself, cats steady staring me down |
Clown, I heard you got lost, that could write precise |
But I murderize cats on the mic to bytes |