Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Help Me Out , by - Del The Funky Homosapien. Release date: 10.08.1997
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Help Me Out , by - Del The Funky Homosapien. Help Me Out |
| Mack Del impetuous |
| Tepetuous |
| Bust flows? |
| Under fire like appestos |
| All MCs grip my testicles |
| Let them go No, I spread your flow like metal pull |
| Utensils such as scalpels |
| Over your Adam’s Apple |
| To make you alto |
| Doggin’MCs and feed 'em Alpo |
| Your plan backfires to my satires |
| Got your flow sittin’on flat tires |
| My rogues rhymes rip through your lip when you bite |
| Like a lightenin’bolt for a volt of molten mite |
| Hazardiest to the average |
| Volt and death strike |
| To your neck right |
| On target |
| Bull’s eye |
| Then deflected off your neck with such velocity |
| It’s sets the hip hop hostage free |
| In the terminal burnin’all MC’s brains |
| Excellerated agents got you walkin’on canes |
| I’ll be brief like Hanes |
| Mundane MCs get caned to retain my title |
| The vital organ donor |
| To cut through the bonona |
| My escapes let you wave through the masquerade |
| Rain with disaster man out in your play book |
| Cause they took |
| The funk merged with hate |
| And then regurgitate |
| This concludes part of what causes murder rates to bubble |
| Meanwhile I take the shuttle to this girls crib so we can cuddle |
| And listen to my subtle rebuttal the butthole |
| Hook: |
| Words and phrases I prefer to play with |
| When occurs when I made it It’s never outdated |
| Help me out (x2) |
| I stifle your mic hold your grips slips don’t let all your chips |
| Throwin’away all your tips for thinkin' |
| That’s dangerous |
| Leave that to the big boys |
| Sicker than Sig Freud |
| Peep, you wanna live forever but take too many chances |
| You with many can get a piece of eastside Oakland folks |
| When provokin’spoken dialects of broken English |
| that distinguish us from y’all we Cause raps and own spots on the globe |
| And disrobe your bony mediocrity like Socrates |
| My Egyptian inscription shiftin' |
| Brain cells with sick inflections |
| Suckas must be simpin' |
| Hop like Lipton |
| You’ll get the microphone when I’m though if then |
| I form a rap court with my siblings |
| The sort of thing that keep the crew tight |
| Even in it’s new life |
| You think you’re able to label the Hiero sound? |
| You still haven’t found a comparable variable |
| I aim my flows they close in like smart bombs |
| Bury ya restricted areas |
| Me and my playmates we talented hip hop palatines |
| Patteling’to Sharlintons |
| Knownin’what we are to them |
| Makes us try hard to win |
| We attend the track promptly |
| Rappers wanna chomp me They empty |
| I’m mega morph with mega force don’t fort deceit the beat i |
| I’s a treat |
| Compete at the war on the weak |
| Hook |
| Del carelessly convorting |
| Over more things than tracks |
| Your skull perhaps |
| Spinal taps vinyl laps over each other you’ll discover |
| oon enough how tough it is to scruff them bids |
| At accsions I’m lost in madness |
| Lacadazical but coming back to fade you ALL |
| I don’t make music for the teeny boppers the coppers and proper booshy |
| Y’all can lose me Or find me but keep in mind we Underground when you get offended |
| As you often do when you new comers |
| Check the rap scene for a few summers |
| Then when it change you shift lanes |
| But first you mergin' |
| First you was a virgin splurgin’money on P.E. |
| Then with N.W.A. |
| But too much trouble to play |
| Mom on your ass turn that trash down |
| Your little brother getting’bright ideas in the background |
| He use to war Hush Puppies |
| Now he and his homies is dust junkies sellin’crack cross country |
| Use to be a momma’s boy |
| Now you a grown man with no plan |
| All alone in the land of the free and the home of the brave |
| Free to be your own mental slave |
| Del has to have a word with you |
| Because you deserve to do what you want to But mistakes come back to haunt you |
| Hook (x2) |
| Microphones settin’off (x2) |