| Straight off the back
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| I come straight off my back
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| With a gun like I’m in Iraq
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| And in fact I attack and tackle,
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| and sack and crack and crackle
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| And snap back and battle my own shadow
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| Cause yall wack and all that
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| Bullsh! |
| t ya talkin startin to get funky
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| Toss me the chunky, Ima bull these monkeys.
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| Sir I’m from the block where u don’t pass like a flunky
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| We make a bitch a mule and everybody act a donkey
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| Yes, I want you to come around here with that plan boy
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| I’ll shoot this mutherf**ker til I burn my hand boy
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| Bust up in the court and shoot the witness on the stand boy
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| This is my game ask everybody in the stands boy
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| I’m all red I’m on fire like an ant pile
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| They put the clamp down if I put the stamp down
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| You get the stampede, I make blood bleed
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| You suck dick, I succeed
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| Yeah, yeah
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| And this is how victory tastes
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| So I’ma spit in ya face!
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| Kevin!
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| Singing ay yo whoa ow (ohh)
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| Ay yo whoa
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| Ay yo whoa ow
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| (So I’ma spit in your face)
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| Singing ay yo whoa ow (ohh)
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| Ay yo whoa
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| Ay yo whoa ow
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| (So I’ma spit in your face)
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| If this is a race I ain’t goin' for no pace
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| I am goin' for your place
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| While ya home, why you gon
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| F**k with me if I ain’t f**kin' around
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| two eyes to the sky, 10 toes touchin the ground
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| Bitch nigga I am not your homeboy
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| We are not from the same home boy
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| My Nina Baker bring your joy
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| I’ll destroy who ya employ
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| I shoot 12 rounds, now Jr. Jones Roy
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| Y’all so backwards
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| I don’t go back cuz Ima swisher man
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| 8 in the mornin' your body get found by a fisherman
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| Yeaa, You guys is bitches, little girls
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| And Mr. Smith & Weston wanna kiss ya pussy pearl
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| Tongue kiss an angel and spit fire at the devil
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| And I do whatever for the root of all evil
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| Gold, silver, bronze, no try the black metal
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| Turn yo mutherf**kin' flowers
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| to feathers now fly to heaven
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| Kevin!
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| Singing ay yo whoa ow (ohh)
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| Ay yo whoa
|
| Ay yo whoa ow
|
| (So I’ma spit in your face)
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| Singing ay yo whoa ow (ohh)
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| Ay yo whoa
|
| Ay yo whoa ow
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| (So I’ma spit in your face)
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| And crazy’s what they callin' me
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| but crazy isn’t hardly what I am
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| Try creatively retarded or amazingly rewarded
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| Ain’t no faith in me the hardest never crack, I’m crack
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| I’m dope in Reynolds Wrap
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| now let’s just hope you get it back
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| Let’s just hope that you get it
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| And if I have anything to do with it
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| mutherf**ker I did it
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| Yeah, Young Tune, gorilla monsoon
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| Mr. Martian will hang your ass from the moon
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| Cos you don’t get sun, you just get it soon
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| Turn your I.D. |
| to a tomb
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| Goons are us, the foods for us
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| to eat with our hands, no fork and spoon for us
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| We will take the knives, and we will take the wives
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| And we won’t take the jewelry but we will take the lives yea!
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| So I’ma spit in your face
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| Yeah I’ma so I’ma spit in your face, yeah
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| Singing ay yo whoa ow (ohh)
|
| Ay yo whoa
|
| Ay yo whoa ow
|
| (So I’ma spit in your face)
|
| Singing ay yo whoa ow (ohh)
|
| Ay yo whoa
|
| Ay yo whoa ow
|
| So I’ma spit in your face |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Spit In Your Face, artist - Kevin Rudolf. Album song To The Sky, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп