Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Men At Work 2020 , by - DomingoRelease date: 18.08.2014
Song language: English
Men At Work 2020 |
| Deadly rhymes, here’s the solution |
| Smoke you so bad, I’m a shoot till your kuf' spin |
| Scoops more loops than nooses in a looney bin |
| Send the men with white suits in with in 'em |
| Stab and stab the limbs with a blue pen |
| Rages straitjacket taser the bastard |
| Basket-case with hazardous |
| You grab the mace to spray out a pathway |
| You pass the, nurse hurt in a black wig |
| Jack Nicholson crackpot, listen to crackpots |
| Whip with a fifth on the back block |
| You got rocked but didn’t know how to act, doc |
| Nothin' but dimes bendin' over for the back shot |
| Some tight white chicks lick on my black cock |
| Main squeeze got dead up in the padlock |
| Stand clear, the real assassin’s here |
| I’m the man upstairs that drank too many beers |
| Cheers from the sideline, hookers on the hotline |
| I’m on that corner, slingin' rocks and tryin' to stop mine |
| Red and blue lights, bitch addict for the night |
| I gotta take flight or else they’re gonna find that white |
| Substance that lights crack pipes at night |
| Fiends in the PJs fightin' for three nights |
| Plus I’m tight |
| Source gave me three mics |
| That’s one magazine bitch in the whole clip, riiight? |
| Pop-off master, lyrical ambassador |
| Point-blank comma, gimme space like NASA |
| Ghetto bastard with a rapture, what happened? |
| Make you play the wall like plaster, die faster |
| Yo G, I gave you sixteen, put it on a triple-beam |
| Break the pound up, bring the money back to Queens |
| It’s a demo, my road to the riches is truly marvelous |
| Like KGR, bad to the bone, now who’s the pharmacist? |
| But dominance, common, autonomous, droppin' the novelist |
| 'Nuff said: take 'em to war, crews be robbin' this |
| It’s nothin' to me, the edge of sanity’s a damn shame |
| Time to represent for the brothers, we on a campaign |
| Trilogy of terror, number one with a bullet |
| I’m blowin' up in the world, you motherfuckers couldn’t |
| Put money in the bank if I’m wanted dead or alive |
| I’m losin' weight like an elephant died |
| On the road to riches |
| Listen, the mission is that I’m still rappin' |
| Hot tracks, deliver the plaques |
| Shit is real platinum |
| I brings it back, it’s the cat with the hard-right checks |
| The ladies love me cause I talk like sex |
| I be the innovator with the greater data |
| Skip defibrillators send the bill to haters to pay it |
| So I’m a see ya later |
| Fuck waitin', I’m God, not Satan |
| Stop hatin', shots sprayin', I’m not playin' |
| Start prayin', my heart’s racin' like Scarface’s |
| In car chases, I’m Skywalkin' and Darth Vadin' |
| Ghost ridin', toast hidin' with cold iron |
| You’re two-two'in', I’m three-poundin' and four-fivin' |
| Bad bitches, I’m mad, bitches, you had riches |
| I clap bitches,, this is the rap Hitler |
| Crack giver to fiends, that’s why I stack figures |
| That nigga is me, Hennessey black liquor |
| Drunk drivin' and blunt rollin', the gun’s stolen |
| Put a hole in your chest until your lung’s swollen |
| The young legend, son’s reppin' with one weapon |
| To kill you with no answers and no questions |
| No videos, no dances and no sessions |
| I be makin' shit happen, I’m so destined |
| Underground superhero, Emperor Nero |
| Roman graffiti, tag my name on Colosseum murals |
| Slick lines, puro, peso, a few Euros |
| Y’all bitch niggas got cleavage like two zeros |
| Wankstas talkin' Bobby DeNiro, but sweet like churros |
| I be comin' in Latinas |
| Like donkey show burros |
| Blurro |
| Keep them bottles poppin' |
| Hip hop Mickey Thompson |
| B-boy exclusive |
| The reptilian side of my brain contains the venom of Medusa’s |
| I’m out here grindin', Bobby Brown’s jaw |
| Two state bids, I’m down by law |
| Tell them crackers in the blue suits everything Biggie said |
| Prove it’s bulletproof: milli to the head |
| My occupation: live like a billionaire |
| Fuck like a porn star and drink like a sports bar |
| Yo G, fold 'em |
| Copy the suits outta Goldman’s |
| Shooters on the roof, suede on the shoe |
| Queens, that’s where death do us |
| Same place, fiend face’ll get left blue-ish |
| Countin' money on the deck |
| Recoupin' the sex, shoop on the set |
| Fuck around put the to your neck |
| Duck on the table, spin it like the barrel |
| Share it with the family, born to be a pharaoh |
| Straight sick wit' it, need quarantine |
| Young prime time, pull corner schemes |
| Snap fingers for the waiter, time for ordering |
| Small flowers in the garden need a watering |
| Writin' rhymes with my daughter and my son present |
| Ginger ale, marijuana lung resin |
| Flushing, Queens, Dominican, a diner |
| Posse goin' in, treat it like vagina |
| Mutilate the beat like a bear mutilating meat |
| Shoot you with a .38 in the face, to lick the bleed |
| Lacerate, never procrastinate with beef |
| Decapitate any rapper that hate on the thieves |
| Please, I’m more street than your whole fleet |
| Police lock you up, you’re fucked till your asshole bleeds |
| Plus some chubby Clubber Lang-lookin' motherfucker named Bubba |
| Gang-bangin' you with no rubber |
| You bleed like hemo', chop you like Premo |
| Pop your mop-top off, emo like you got chemo |
| Blast a burner like Dillinger, brown Derringer |
| Vern Schillinger, brain hemorrage’ll |
| Turn to gelatin, bird skeleton |
| Charcoal black, melanin |
| Spermin' in Helen Keller women |
| Schizophrenic with the most elegant etiquette |
| Till I flip like a predicate felon |
| Somebody get a medic |