Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Jeah, artist - Copywrite. Date of issue: 14.11.2002
Song language: English
Jeah |
| Copy and Ok, we stay beating hoes |
| In broad daylight whooping the living daylights outta broads; |
| rain sleet or snow |
| Craziest flow, pay me a G |
| Rock so long promoters gone have to pay me to leave |
| I aim and I squeeze, got you favorite emcees' brains on my sleeves |
| Starting forest fires, blazing the trees |
| Critically acclaimed, clinically insane |
| And if you ain’t see how I spit it then I must’ve did it in the rain |
| How rookies want respect? |
| Best decline in fear |
| You got pussy on your neck, you wet behind the ears |
| Locked in at your top ten’s vital |
| Hock phlegm like I’m auditioning for Rakim’s title |
| Too evil to quit, who’s more lethal and sick? |
| Coming at you like I sneezed through my dick |
| Holler bitch lane merging |
| I’m like a med. |
| school scholarship |
| For free I’ll change a lame virgin to a brain surgeon |
| New hoes lay for two whole days |
| Fuck chicks with Eaze, you’d think I’d have full blown A. I. D. S |
| Matter fact, sickest emcee to tear the mic since Eric Wright |
| You guest appearing? |
| Bring fire cause I ain’t sharing light |
| Arrogant with mics, terrorist in flight |
| Flying where you live, this guy write paragraphs in Arabic tonight |
| Preparing dick for dikes, you guessed it |
| I’ll show your crew true essence on June 7th you peasants |
| Any crew you with is full of shit till the bullets hit when the uzi spit |
| I write more lines than the late John Belushi sniffed |
| Screw who you get, try your luck |
| But I’m not in the mile high club so I don’t give a flying fuck |
| Puffing herb in this three inch Dutch |
| Laying it down for the streets like construction workers with cement trucks |
| Haters scanning on radars planning to raid our land and |
| Evade all hands with the A. R. cannon’ll spray, I’m scamming |
| Like, fuck you think you doing to me? |
| Ruining me? |
| Junior you were humoring me |
| Crying how I repeat too many lines in rhymes |
| That only means that you peep too many rhymes of mine |
| And the lines are mine so eat a dick; |
| I ain’t at your nine to five |
| Telling you how to super size the fries |
| So here’s three words, eat shit and die |
| Keep spitting lies, I’mma keep getting high |
| Doing shows, screwing hoes on their back |
| Shoot a load like I squeezed rounds at the Laundromat |
| Obnoxious hot shit even during sound check we rock shit |
| Y’all couldn’t open up for us if y’all were locksmiths |
| And I dare y’all say battling’s dead |
| That’s what the last cat that I massacred said |
| So I keep a Glock close, quick to pull it when a cop’s close |
| That’s foolish, that’s like wasting bullets on a cockroach |