Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Schmack!, artist - Chords. Date of issue: 31.12.2009
Song language: English
Schmack! |
| I jump the beat, work it like a pogo stick |
| Oh no, it’s Chords with a thorn in his side |
| «Crash your cipher» turn it into «the lord of the flies» |
| On tour 'til I die, I swear man Chords wouldn’t lie |
| 'Til the states stop celebratin' the 4th of July |
| 'Til the fat man eats the last order of fries |
| And the big fish stop swimming in corporate lies |
| «Stick to the plan» hand over a list of demands |
| Give me 12 beats, a studio and 600 grams |
| «Man» and you’ll be there to see the shit hit the fan |
| Spliff in his hand popped up like the mystery man |
| «Damn» I jump up swing the toolie |
| «Nunchucks» straight out of a ninja movie |
| «Fucked up» didn’t really mean to injure groupies |
| «Tough luck» I was aiming for Marimba Roney |
| What’s on the menu doc, who’s next to get scarred? |
| I wild out like hard rocks with electric guitars |
| Fill the page up with decadent bar |
| Make rappers head for the stalls, checkin' their drawls |
| And it’s quite amazing how I run through quick |
| Like 1,2 #### you’re in a kung fu grip |
| M.O.N.S. |
| drops the body rock |
| And if he’s fuckin with the beat, shit is probably hot |
| If you fuck around with me you should probably stop |
| «You know my steez» I break up ciphers with karate chops, man |
| So you better avoid the issue |
| I run through notepads like it was a toilet tissue |
| «Deploy the missiles» show 'em I mean business |
| Let my tongue start rollin' like Gene Simmons |
| Fuck that, I throw a knuckle sandwich at 'em |
| And call the paramedics while I puff the magic dragon |
| You can catch me in the back with a sticky |
| In a cloud of smoke man, I leave the smackin' to Miki |
| «That's how it goes» still roll through in a Yugo |
| Both you and your crew know who’s numero uno |
| Who else, none other, C to the H O |
| So reach for the payroll and leave me the pesos |
| It’s all a part of a master plan |
| You get a publisher, hit him for a cash advance |
| Then get kitted out like Dapper Dan |
| And blow it all in one week down in Amsterdam |
| There’s only two rules: shit, you’re rich 'til you’re broke |
| And anything that can be saved in the mix is a joke |
| I spit to provoke, leave competition stiff as the pope |
| Arrogance, ill flow, got a little of both |
| I just mix 'em up with molten lava |
| Ghost I’m gone I leave you with an open palm |