Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song No Need for Alarm, artist - Del The Funky Homosapien. Album song No Need For Alarm, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 01.11.1993
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Elektra
Song language: English
No Need for Alarm |
I wait to see your skull vibrate |
When I bury the hatchet, I hope you catch it, I’ll attach it |
To his focus, when I broke his head in half |
Feel the wrath, on my behalf |
I drop math, and english, leave you squeamish |
Then I squish your wish you’re all fuckin dreamers (alla y’all) |
No time for tiddlywinks — if your titties is pink |
Then you are white and I’m not the right man (not for me) |
But you can blow pipe, my style is so tight |
I be carvin, MC’s when I’m starvin (I'm hungry) |
You little chunks of punks that I dunks in my coffee |
Get off me, I’m not your softie |
But you will cough for your breath and phlegm, death to them |
And silly broads, I fuck 'em and I chuck 'em (why?) |
In the river, without a liver |
And I donate to science, cause I’m a giver |
The mysterious clearly busts brains with my brawn |
Ask Sean, Cassidy about how I trash MC’s |
On the daily, Alex Haley had to write about it |
Doubt it but it’s true, get a clue (get a clue) |
I’m tellin you the truth you’ll be toothless |
The boots get smoked like they on fire, I desire |
Like Salt’N’Pepa, I’ll fuck a fat heffer (yeah) |
Like I was Fritz the Cat, and she admits to fat |
So I’m movin removin wackness from my stratosphere |
If I thought that that was near |
«You still bet that you can harm me, but you don’t alarm me.» |
Listen to this |
You’re just a test tube baby, you can’t fade me, but hey G |
Your style is lazy, boy you’re crazy |
Losin it, check out my fusion kit (here it is) |
It’s welding rhymes and propelling, swelling (rrrahh) |
Getting bigger, getting niggas in headlocks |
Instead lock your scanners on Bruce Banner |
I crush fools plus tunes used by the master |
Will blast you into Tuesday, when I bruise a |
Motherfucker, who mother suck a cock |
And his brother fuck a jock, and his sister, got blisters |
On her lips that be spreadin, she be-headin (yes she do) |
Showin cleavage, with my futuristic styles I leave kids |
In a trance, hypnotizin your eyes spin |
Back in your head like you dead but instead you was buggin |
Ugly bitches get the dillz after shows (shows) |
Cause I don’t be runnin after hoes that be stank |
I thank the Lord, for my thought |
Connected to the microphone, so check the cycle tone |
That I be arousin, housin your blouse and your pumps |
The mac daddy makes you jump! |
(yeah) |
I pump info, into nymphos, who be bonin |
Clonin, Vanessa Del Rio |
And yes sir Del see no evil, hear no evil |
It’s normal, I come formal, to keep 'em warm 'til the morn' |