Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Help Me Out, artist - Del The Funky Homosapien.
Date of issue: 10.08.1997
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
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When occurs when I made it It’s never outdated |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) |