Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Lemmie Hear Sumthin' Else, artist - Canibus. Album song "c" True Hollywood Stories, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 21.11.2005
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Babygrande
Song language: English
Lemmie Hear Sumthin' Else |
I’m on my way to ASCAP so I can pick up my dough |
I ran into a Jacker nigga tryna hit me with flows |
He didn’t know I had a mind to just bloody his nose |
And let the blood pour down on his white clothes |
Chhhh. |
Nigga! |
You don’t wanna cipher with me |
My name ain’t Pakman for nothin, I’m gobblin emcees |
Chhhh. |
Damn yo, I wasn’t even tryna take it there |
Lemme hear somethin in the ear nigga, make it clear |
He started goin on about pushin a big Benz |
How he stayed jig, and smoked chronic up with his friends |
He doin it big and got unlimited ends |
I just met the nigga, I seen him walkin up with his mens |
Stop frontin shorty, lemme tell you somethin 'bout the game |
It’s a thin line, from being wack to spittin flames |
You gotta represent when you be writin them lines |
Don’t be a FUCKIN millionaire in every one of ya rhymes |
I’mma let you walk in but yo you gotta be quick |
I gotta go, and the shit you spittin nigga, better be slick |
He started gettin busy, I was noddin my head |
Then he fucked it all up and said some shit that I said |
Stopped rhymin cuz he knew he shouldn’t have said that verse |
Lookin stupid as fuck, for that nigga it was the worst |
Yo, how you gonna bite and try to be top shelf |
Better get ya act together, lemme hear somethin else |
I give you more grievance than a nigga possessed by demons |
Walkin on ceilings, chasin white lot speedin |
Like Tony Soprano, takin meetings |
With a psychologist about his emotional feelings |
And his crime dealings |
He even talked about how to make alcohol out of orange peelings |
Pink cookies in a plastic bag gettin crushed by a buildin |
Was cool until Canibus puked it |
With ill cannibalistic, animal instincts |
Instant lyrical fitness, could you handle the distance? |
You don’t have enough wisdom |
The man who gives quicksand resistance |
Sinks the quickest, it’s simple physics |
I get «Southernplayalistic» and pimp chicks |
Put my big dick in they mouth and smear they lipstick |
Come here you stank bitch! |
Tell ya man if he don’t spit a hundred bars |
I’mma bust him in his big lips |
Spit quick, like 6B tip-tronic stick-shift |
Bitch is equipped with a nitrous-oxide flipswitch |
If you hate me, why would you recreate me |
With those that imitate me and emulate me? |
They talk about me so distastefully lately |
But that never break me, they underestimate me |
Me and the Killer P, and P-A-C get crazy with G-A-T's |
I’m a B-E-A-S-T, you don’t wanna race me |
I do Mach 1 over a A-F-B |
No if’s, A-N-D's, or B-U-T's |
A hundred bars ain’t SHIT for a true emcee |
SHUT THE FUCK UP! |
You should be ashamed of yourself |
I ain’t heard nothin I felt, lemme hear somethin else |