Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Godz Must Be Crazy, artist - Demigodz. Album song Deluxe Edition: The Godz Must Be Crazier, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 18.11.2003
Record label: Demigodz Enterprises
Song language: English
The Godz Must Be Crazy |
Straight out the red depths of Hell bringin clips and diseases |
I walk on water with my own two feet nigga, FUCK JESUS! |
Celph Titled’s a God with many followers |
Who’s sick enough to choke a pitbull with his own dog collar |
I rep the NYC, fuck bitches and sip Remy |
Pack more notes than Denny’s and conduct symphonies |
You fuckin with me, you won’t live to see tomorrow, faggot! |
I keep it gangsta, storin bodies in a dusty attic |
You can’t talk cuz of the duct tape you fuck face |
The Demigodz from Chrome Depot blazin with .38's |
My clique is famous for the way we spit and rock flows |
Leave the spot blown and send bitch-niggaz to (?) |
Beware! |
Emcees out there, drop ya mics |
Your talkin might result in the loss of life |
And also might, known to crush blocks of ice |
The spot it bright, 'til the point you lost ya sight |
Cuz I’m startin fights, like that bully in class |
Sayin, When the bell rings bitch, I’m kickin your ass! |
I spit at stage shows where herbs and weirdos |
screamin Oh No like Nate, Mos Def, and Pharaohe |
It’s a rare flow, put your cameras on zoom |
Cuz it’s tight like all the Klumps crammed in a small room |
Fudge is the shit, been busy puttin cups to my lips |
Gettin it outta me, gave the weed a couple of hits |
Mary Jane lately, grew some succulent tits |
But everybody’s hittin it, ended up dumpin that bitch |
Mastered the art of reverse physcology |
Gimme a minute with a chick and she’ll exchange a suck for a lick |
Broke nigga — give bartenders a buck for a tip |
Take a sip and give it back say, spruce it up a tidbit |
Who in the fuck?! |
Rappers hidin under they trucks |
Jumpin through windows, actin like lightning just struck |
Holdin the do', cuttin they 'fros, wearin disguises |
Exercising, puttin on weight, increasing sizes |
Packin they tools and rollin in schools learnin dialect |
Ebonics, that ain’t workin no more, we need some bias shit |
Yaggfu, Demigodz alliance |
We colossal like Paul Bunyan and Jolly Green Giant |
Yo I’m that fly gringo that chicks love to deep throat |
With tracks so hot, you’ll pass out from heat strokes |
I beat foes on both west and east coasts |
The freak hoes are rhymin on Luke’s Peep Show |
I’ll crush ya ego, embarass you in ya home town |
So forget the fame, you won’t wanna be known now |
I throw down with you half-ass rappers |
And stuff your garbage rhymes inside trash compactors |
I’m a Demigod, what’d you expect? |
From a man |
who met Mother Nature, looked under her dress and wasn’t impressed |
The same stupid son of a bitch who doesn’t respect |
The Angel of Death’s request when he comes to collect |
Run in and check, my cassette — it’s a slight chance |
you might see, demons escapin from in the deck, and now that I… |
But when I increase the rudeness of my evil music |
It leaves the stupid, people skewered and leaks ya fluids |
into the streets and sewers, if by chance God sees me do it |
Should shoot a big hole down to Hell and lead me to it |
My microphone of omens dismantles opponents components |
In moments leaving you and your cipher with my condolence |
When I’m heated to max, you’ll be sufferin’from repeated attacks |
Defeated you cats with fatter tracks, faggots collapse |
When they be hearin’collabs over the wax |
Like subway rats we walk on underground tracks |
I’ve come to an overstandin’that you lack in what I’m excellin’in |
Professional at propellin’adrenaline |
In fact, Open Mic attacks in stereo sound |
Pull out my dick and I’ll piss all on your burial ground |
You better not clown or ever try to fuck with my committee |
Cuz the Demigodz are comin’like a storm to your city |
Yo we could go to war right now, go call ya brethren |
Man the fight’s on, I’ll see you in Hell — from Heaven |
Reppin everything I write tight, said it for a long time |
I’m great in my eyes, I’m a legend in my own mind |
The floor is out for ya set, that ain’t respect |
The crowd ain’t happy you wreck, they happy you left |
They mad upset, pissed that they came for you rhymin |
They barely survived your set, families huggin and cryin |
Don’t come back, the rap competition’s gettin hurt up Be with an inch of ya life, and then an inch further |
Been heard of, this crew takin over this art |
Ahead of you in skill, flow, and popularity charts |
Mo’known to flip plus the skill be sick |
The type of cat that show his dick before he spit |
I’ll rush ya crew, but nigga fuck the rules |
With trust ya lose, anything I touch I bruise |
Now with Demigodz, I battle with any squad |
I spit plenty bars, plus ball like Penny Har' |
So if you thinkin of stick this man for the dividends |
Catch a quick two bullet blaze in ya abdomen |
Yo, lemme show these cats what rockin a mic’s about |
I’ll put ya life in doubt like the biker style, whipin out |
You’re a bitch, the reason why your strikin out’s |
Cuz, girls who get with you think they’re dykin out |
You backpackers home typin out, a verse for ya title bout |
While I’m in a Lambroghini with James? |
Candafini? |
Rappers try to be me but they can’t get my look down |
My bumpy knuckles leave this industry shook down |
When I rhyme, I’m so ahead of my time |
That if we battled at 10, get there by 20 at 9 |
I’m as heavy as Spawn, Esoteric savage B |
I’ll spit bars at rappers like a chocolate factory |
Yo whatchu known for? |
Killin rappers off like a famine |
The Last Standing, like Bruce Lee’s daughter Shannon |
It took some time plannin but I’m finally here |
Just droppin knowledge on ya brain, and puttin flavor in ya ear |
At the start of my career, people said they wasn’t feelin me But now everybody think’s I’m Keith Murray’s 'Mini-Me' |
A critically acclaimed harsh heartbreaker |
Got into a slugfest and broke out the salt shaker |
Can’t you see my mental is creating verbal force fields? |
Elevating spiritual, my physical is more real |
Reality is 99% perception mostly |
Mag-NIFICENT, my MISSILES SENT |
Heat-seeking bombs DETONATING, I’m invading-VADING |
The space station, face me, A-P A-T H-E-T-I-C (I-C) |
Now that the light has come to meeee! |
Owww, the tornado, natural disaster, lacerating rappers |
Known as Apathetic magnetic power attracting masses |
Masked with gastric acids, turnin ya flesh to ashes |
2002 Demigodz’ll crush you wack asses! |