| I bitchslap rappers so hard it give em whiplash
|
| You fuckin with sleeveless t-shirts, where your tricks at?
|
| Look left, look right, wait, where your chick at?
|
| She findin out she walk and talk white but ride dick black
|
| I’m a big baller, shot caller, all a y’all are runnin laps
|
| Let me tell you little fuckers a story walkin out
|
| You probably think you’re somebody big talkin loud
|
| You’re transparent, I been starin through your Karl Kani
|
| Art imitates life imitates art
|
| Get it straight, slice through the mic, pourin out my heart
|
| When it’s late night we litter the landscape
|
| Animate our dead opposition to get one last phoney handshake
|
| I read a lot and write a lot, empty my pockets at the giro shop
|
| Hit the cash machine for some green, maybe a ten spot
|
| I said giro cause my Greek’s a little broken
|
| But my four-letter French works fine if you’re provokin
|
| And we killers in the morning, killers in the evening
|
| Wake up and we yawnin, happy we still breathin
|
| Got one longin, that’s to keep eatin
|
| We here to stay and we ain’t leavin
|
| (Rock y’all)
|
| (Everything gonna be alright)
|
| I’m a cross between John Gotti and Mahatma Ghandi
|
| Look between pimp and square, you probably find me There, in vain I solemnly swear
|
| I’m a Guardian Angel with gang signs in the air
|
| I spent too much time fuckin with sorry sobs
|
| Treatin beats like bitches, flippin mnage trois’s
|
| You ain’t tryin to see us angry, pop, we already hard
|
| Fuckin the the diplomats’ll get you horribly scarred
|
| From the cat behind the wall who play handball in the yard
|
| To the one that run the block as head baller in charge
|
| To the brothers with the kufis on that walk with the gods
|
| Mission Hill, Caprini Green, all ghetto scenery
|
| Every city got us beaten up, down tryin creepin up Soundbombing people, what? |
| Till we get a equal cut
|
| We come through straight smashin on the haters
|
| Witness the world, the Rhymesayers
|
| (Rock y’all)
|
| (Everything gonna be alright)
|
| Often the brain runs
|
| And expresses itself in words, sometimes profane ones
|
| That’s when it first occurred to me where the pain comes
|
| From, page one in my rhyme book
|
| If you listen closely you can picture how my line looks
|
| You presently pressed to be restin next to me The best of me molestin destiny wrestlin with ecstacy
|
| The recipe for immoratlity
|
| Flows actually be on the malls and factories
|
| Of urban life with the laws of gravity
|
| Audacity, you got a lot of it Common sense should tell you not to rap against
|
| My obvious dominance
|
| My real lilfe size is bigger than your confidence |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Bitchslap! , by - Brother Ali. Song from the album Shadows On The Sun, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп