Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Burnt, artist - Del The Funky Homosapien. Album song The Best Of Del Tha Funkee Homosapien [The Elektra Years]: The B-Boy Handbook, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 09.02.2004
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Elektra, Rhino Entertainment Company
Song language: English
Burnt |
Mista, twista, get ya every single time when I rhyme like I know so I flow |
with tha gifted tounge, an encriptic rung |
new phases to enter the mazes-play this |
two times a day with the dayo |
day, hey, hey ho with a day light come |
I plum forgot what a wack rhyme was |
because I buzz like a bee in the ears of my peers so they know and I know we all know day hey yo- |
day light come and me wanna go home- |
cool |
no tool, no Smith and Wesson |
just an oppisite so I can pop a bit of shit on the mic when I get on the mic |
pee-pee--pee-ping! |
I ricochet a bit on the mic |
and I like it- |
Just like the Gulf or World War II |
d-e-l will say and straight slay anyone who |
makes advances when I make um heel |
peel off the anwsers when i’m drilling in your skull like a beaver |
binito-but I ain’t finished |
till I like to flip side rhymes cause the rhythm gets deminished. |
Casual |
I would if I could but I ain’t cause I’m dank |
time for me to lay down the law: who’s raw? |
you saw the blues and the shoes of the writer |
stronger than a siskel and your like a side bar |
artery- |
try to win the lottery before you try to slaughter me because I’m not the g to be stepped to let loose negative bones |
that my rep crew I let loose negative tones |
so you better get flows to counter act what we’ve done |
proceed more stunts cause I’m hard like a street, son |
we go and step back as I wreck shop |
pronounced to break necks of those who won’t stop |
artist-the one who does better they ain’t found |
and if someone else tries to step: I knock that ass down |
the bigger the batter the bigger the fatter is whenever you figure this nigga is gettin his |
be real and don’t kill my walk with your next thought |
and answer that your boss- |
cause that’s when you lost |
keep on losing, amusing many tactics |
I came to earn more green than Saint Patrick |
and I make backs if you get caught frontin' |
never bought a Newport but I’m on the button. |
Tajai |
I needs no sugar crisp to get swift |
so what with two sylabols-it's just the positive |
Tajai |
I steals Souls that try to steal my laddin |
coming to your brain like I would on a sheet |
I respond with no distraction when I see one |
fatter than re-run so what’s happennin'? |
it’s not where you from, it’s just how you come |
correct my stacks will get rough to bake |
get phucked enough to my men like idie midie |
look in the membrane enough because I am a righty |
fight these- |
you’ll catch follies if you folly |
I make shanks to stick fakes I’m dank and you’re quaint |
wack shit puritian surround like ineffectual |
I get um-blunt style like the heart of homosexuals. |
not for sex when you cross the intersection you’re damaged |
get bruised knuckles and what you look for |
bad ones |
busted a few much more than two |
a slew of sold ass phonies, |
bust their cohonies |
try, |
you’ll catch my Vans in your highnee |
that’s if my bankrupt slips though I doubt |
how do you want to convert me in time |
but I seize more than those candies-nothing gets by me so play them tracks- |
and you’ll go out like beta max |
next to Tajai cause I kicks the greater stacks. |
Opio |
Be deep boom- |
bob your head to this, mischievous |
soul socidle, |
idle chatter never slips off the lips of this writter |
might not be the greater innovater of the mind scheme |
but my style is like the visine: it gets your eyes opening. |
this raggedy andy gets dandy like a lion in the meadow |
while the teapot blows steam like a kettle |
the hip to the hop |
I make up flip when I get drastic |
stepping with their moods but their flows are pornographic |
and man with the vocal making the locals go insane |
the regal rhyming speech substan-nance for the brain |
get frisky with the phrases like you praises like a deity |
the one with liberated souls |
-control for infinity |
got style much slimma-kids'got a body child |
Hieroglyphics gonna flip the rhythm for the meanwhile |
articulate my lingo as I linger in my medium of speech |
and I could keep poppin cause I’m trying to teach |
a smidgen of religion to the fraudulant |
listen, pay attention I’m the master of this convention |
kick the wigidy while ye style be stutering |
just like smiley |
skipping singles down your satur-dreams to bad it seems you try me and I can make it play down into extreme conscienceness |
plus your wondering extinguish all them myths |
optimistic, stylistic, mysticness I’m swift like murcury |
nursing me I show I’ve got the gift. |
People call me Snupe: that’s because I’m living fat |
People call me nasty: that’s because I eat the cat |
and I swing a bat to knuckle heads, leaving devils dead |
never said |
never cause I cock my head |
better dreadlock on the top of my head, |
never flakky |
if this was a peel then Bodasa couldn’t shake me or bake me cause Betty Crocker’s oven isn’t hot enough |
if you wanna spread the skins |
then I got alot of stuff |
got it? |
tough-got enough-gotta lick it twice |
why step? |
here’s a fly rep |
I kept my step ladder |
I had a fatter flow to be hittin on now it’s just a smidgen like a pidgeon I be shittin’on |
sittin on a futon… |
slip the larger roots on |
I’m the type of brotha that ya have to keep ya boots on opps- |
I’m sorry cause I didn’t mean to dis you |
I could hook a hoe and make um blow like I was tissue |
mary had a little lamb, Adam got a lot of doe |
looking in my garden, |
schylar got a lotta hoes |
Yo-I didn’t mean hoes, yo I meant women |
If she got the pooh, I got the trunks: let’s go swimming |
dip dip dive as I’m live |
moving in on the top of my jock you don’t stop |
here a pimp there a pimp everywhere a pimp pimp |
this A-plus grades the quiz-so there it is. |