Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Mash's Revenge , by - J Dilla. Release date: 01.10.2007
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Mash's Revenge |
| He wants to get his girlfriend? |
| Go get your girlfriend |
| Ay! |
| And now… you is 'bout to dance, like you ain’t never danced before |
| This one’ll have you get the trash hash out the stash, as they say, «Ash to Ash» |
| Jewels free rash, fools ask the mask |
| Need me? |
| I’ll be peeing in the pool, ka-splash! |
| You may feel a slight drizzle |
| Villain—give a squealer a candlelight vigil |
| Couldn’t find a healer with a whistle in the line of sight |
| And he hold the mic like a fistful of dynamite |
| They wonder how he built his C-note tower |
| All before zero hour it’s tree grow power |
| Then he go shower to scour off the funk |
| And watch a so-called comp cower soft punk |
| The god is the oddest fella you’ll find |
| Paid to speak his mind like Father Jealous Divine |
| He came to rock the banquet, rank it |
| Along with two of the baddest broads to act stank wit, blank spit |
| Dilla raise the beat like a anchor banker |
| Overstand the shoot and plays the heat |
| And shank a wanker |
| He drank a tank of angst, thank ya |
| Guess what? |
| Chicken head butts |
| Hit a rhyme on time, like kicked 'em dead in the nuts |
| Oh… the victim had guts |
| Prepare to stick 'em, I’ll slick 'em in the cut |
| Go… sell a spear chucker voodoo |
| Got’ed her off wholesale mare schmuck new spew |
| So… sell a beer trucker doodoo |
| Foes go to hell in a seersucker muumuu |
| DOOM! |
| Guilty! |
| Dilla, Dilla! |
| Grind for the paper, hot like Sanka |
| Top notch ranker, clock my banker |
| Dead Presidents, sick dudes — I’m the medicine |
| Storming in your residence when I’m in my element |
| No contest, I get hot and go unconscious — ya boy is automatic |
| Now go play in traffic, the flow is graphic |
| With no theatrics, still rock sold out shows for practice |
| Call it a walk-through. |
| Def. |
| The wrong one to talk to |
| Beef ain’t nothin I can’t stick a fork through |
| We break bread, eat good, and pour brew |
| Cheers! |
| Come toast to the one with respect to the utmost on more than one coast |
| GS, check the style I splash, to make the listener wanna pile my cash |
| King of the Hill, money is the issue |
| It’s all on me tell 'em bring me the bill |
| Daddy Warbucks, shift gears in the armored truck |
| Like Big Daddy Kane when I warm it up |
| Fans scream for the two man team |
| Doom and Guilty — Hip Hop supreme |
| The denim is blue but the pockets green |
| Big knots in jeans, you can’t stop the kings |