Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Disturbed , by - Blame OneRelease date: 27.06.2017
Song language: English
Disturbed |
| 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 |