Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Lord Intended, artist - De La Soul. Date of issue: 25.08.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Lord Intended |
| — Here come the mic dude, so just walk |
| Hey guys I got your mics |
| — About time |
| — What up man? |
| Who’s mic one? |
| — That's me |
| And mic two? |
| — Thanks |
| — Let's go |
| Let me get this door for you |
| Good luck guys |
| One two, one two |
| (Hey) Yo Mase, you ready? |
| Mase is ready! |
| Yo y’all ready |
| Yeah they ready |
| We bout to burn this shit down |
| Yo, there’s a fire in the kitchen, it’s like nine cooks |
| The Kool-Aid got spiked with porcupines, look |
| Rode into Rigo, this ain’t a fast track |
| Your tickets ain’t straight, TSA your ass back |
| NASDAQ, IBM, the big honcho on the block |
| Bitch, I be him |
| The rock mega death, we gonna kill the Kane |
| Fuck everyone, bitch, bring everything |
| Swing like a mandolin, this ain’t a sex toy |
| This ain’t spanish fly, this hot shit |
| Push the dagger in the devil’s eye |
| Slick Rick, yo, get the big dick, yo |
| Blow the dust covers, pick the age on it |
| A nose full, sniff a Rose Bowl full |
| New game, new players, new year |
| The hardest rock shit you gon' hear |
| You can save your soul |
| If we are no more |
| Suffer the consequences |
| We are the way the Lord intended |
| Her ass, she got it from her momma |
| Tits from the doctor |
| Fingers fiddelin' the puss |
| She looks like an Octa |
| Fresh off the pole, hanging from her hook |
| I’m in her Grassy Knoll to hit |
| Just to say that I cocked her (click, click) |
| My hardware is progressive |
| My sex crime language is leaning on obsessive |
| The Lord looking down, judging, the room needs smudging |
| But I’m over your stars screaming the moon ain’t budging |
| Ain’t from Hollis, don’t need to tell you who is |
| But who it here raise hell, they be like «you kid» |
| I’m ambidextrous, liken to Dexter |
| Lyrical blood splatter over the texture |
| We live by that code, not to regret living |
| Electric guitar sparks and ignites gun powder |
| A sabbath ain’t black enough to call my bluff, bitch |
| The killswitch just turns it louder |
| You can save your soul |
| If we are no more |
| Suffer the consequences |
| We are the way the Lord intended |
| Fuck everyone |
| Burn everything |
| Leaving an impression not just a dented legacy |
| Fuck everyone |
| Burn everything you see |
| [Not just clinging to the planet powerless to avoid |
| That cataclysmic impact of a massive asteroid |
| (Fuck everyone, burn everything) |
| Fuck everyone, burn everything |
| Never to surrender to the cosmic schadenfreude of only |
| Meeting your creator on the day you are destroyed |
| (Fuck everyone, burn everything) |
| Just as the Lord intended |
| (Just as the Lord intended) |
| (Fuck everyone, burn everything) |
| (Fuck everyone, burn everything) |
| (Fuck everyone, burn everything) |
| Burn everything |
| (Fuck everyone, burn everything) |
| Burn everything |
| (Fuck everyone, burn everything) |