Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song No Snakes Alive, artist - King Geedorah. Album song Take Me To Your Leader, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 16.06.2003
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Big Dada
Song language: English
No Snakes Alive |
..Geedorah has arrived |
You guys could take five |
By the time it’s over… |
No snakes alive! |
Take the dive, I’m tellin you, you better off |
Then up against a flow to make her, take her sweater off |
From the set off when it came to scripts he could hardly brag |
It’s the result of concentration, and lolly-gag |
I said «Yeah right"he pulled the mic out a snotty rag |
Sealed up air-tight, and wrapped up in a body bag |
Get a advance and catch chance writer’s block |
After spendin the first and last penny |
My own worst enemy |
Tell me if I’m OD and usual flow |
And made deals with these cats who keep sending dough, so |
The Three Headed said it, never get busted |
He’s a man of his word who’s not to be trusted |
Beats encrypted, multi-faceted encrusted |
Sweaty palm, keep mic rusted |
Who sometimes spaz on wife like Othello |
Hell no he won’t use words like Illuminati |
Or Gotti all shotty might use karate |
Azar the Gaza cut I’ll ask why a mask |
With the gall style caps say nice fly |
Exact dough til it stack high, white ho, black |
Guy |
The rap game, black eye |
Exhilaration, Jet Jag’s accelerations |
Touch speeds minds can’t conceive |
Achieve altered, altitudes and angles, angels answer |
Aura, illumination, awesome interpretation |
Awkward alarm, ankle house arrest and who’s best? |
Monster Island Czars |
Crush pawn dreams to be king |
A frank reality |
Calculation could never be |
Quest destined, distant competition dusted |
Disgusted raise for second, crowded |
Clouded confusion, conclusion: simple, plain |
Self education, self-made millionaires |
Serpents slitherin', sidewind searchin' |
Stalkin', heat sensin' |
Can’t have me Jet Jag’s Rikki Tikki Tavi |
Superhero hit zero to sixty |
Hot pursuit, pedal to the floor |
Handlin' lyrics, traction swervin' |
Left right makin' head fix, layin' high stakes |
Levitates, quick hit breaks |
They fly past, hit wall, parts fly loose, killer mongoose |
Fake niggas continue to practice the art of intimidation |
Sterile minds conceive thought through artificial insemination |
Syntax a sequential rage unless it’s all deliberate |
Angle wide words clear, but population stay illiterate |
Consider it God’s a fine power, fools get rid of it |
Men build dreams on promises but lackin' the will to deliver it |
You, I dissolve connivers like saliva on tic tacs |
World is strange, but get the job done like sises mix max |
Flip tracks, murder snakes, drunk niggas killin' six packs |
Chokin' on venom, suffered tricknological kick backs |
Poverty stricken minds, all thoughts barely worth two cents |
Build history through time, many a design on blueprints |
Anooshes slides in the sky, eight-five percent never knew |
Wise men arise, pull files like internal revenue |
Forever true, appalled? |
There’s self evidence with leverage |
Upset? |
The beast belly concoct homogenized beverage |
Clever shit, calculate a sabotage trojan horse |
Gift from? |
see through any G motion that grows in force |
Chose to toss to teach familiar line throughout the underworld |
God of elevation kills Superman, rape Wondergirl |
The discounted, decapitated rapist it’s acceptable |
The everyday occurrence a fatal outcome’s inevitable |
.Might as well join the forces boss |
Chance take a loss like coin toss |
Roll with the double headed nickel |
Pawn the pawn a Jet Jag with the sickle you and a pickle |
King Ghidra yo you ass betta leave 'em alone |
Before ya go catch a seizure and leave 'em blown |
If you ain’t the best of the best in the top three |
Either myself, I and me |
Don’t even think of caps |
But act like you had a slight inkling perhaps |
Or get smacked back in the ring like Bob Backlund |
Ink jet black and wack… |
«Hahahahahaha! |
Hey, what’s the meaning of this?» |
«Shut up!» |
«Hahahahahahahaha, young man.» |