Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Move On 'Em Stomp, artist - King Just.
Date of issue: 15.05.1995
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Move On 'Em Stomp |
Hama-hama ley! |
As I fly through the air |
Appear, rip and tear just like a spear |
Freakin it, wit that ol' crazy ol' flow |
(There I go, there I go, there I go) |
Yo, see what I mean, I’m fuckin sick |
Light the bomb, tick-tick-tick-tick, boom |
All I smell is terror, doom |
I be the nigga that escape from the patted room |
Goo-goo retarded, sickness, the shit |
Who put the «Hey ya» shit, on that first shit, yeah that shit |
Who spits words like you never heard, I’m absurd |
Ahh, gettin on ya nerves |
Crazy, who could amaze me |
Brain stay cessted, I stay lazy |
Drivin Miss Daisy, dukes |
Shaolin stomps like boots, and we get deep just like roots |
And culture, I leave the style for the vultures |
I told ya, you never in your life should of fucked wit the Soldiers |
Of Shaolin, a/k/a Staten Island |
I heard the fuckin kids be wildin |
Shaolin Zoo, who, Wu, Wu |
I deserve a medal for the clicks I be runnin through |
Chumps that front, catch lumps |
I’m runnin down clowns, my shit is comin down like a dump |
Black chumps, sunk into the shit that I flip |
I bump, pumps, resultin in my triumph |
Chumps who front get dissed |
I burn like syphilis, and you be that dick that try and piss |
Pa Baby, you already saw |
While I be on some new shit, that I ain’t even ready for |
I’m sick, but what you want me to do |
I come through, and you couldn’t win if it was three of you |
If you’re concerned, I yearn to burn |
And if you’re fakin, I straighten niggas out like perms |
Every rhyme you wrote before |
Because the Shaolin moves on more niggas than U-Haul |
These niggas ain’t no calm |
So run for you gats, but until then the Shaolin stomps |
Do you know me? |
The Obiwan Kenobi |
Claustrophobic sick, bigger than Moby Dick, bastard bitch |
Yeah right, save it for the judge |
But it wasn’t me, send us to the sumptuous slash ya M. C |
Severe in the worst form, here comes the Swarm |
Sound the alarm, now Pa drops the bomb |
While you’re in the hall, look out below |
Pa burnin, fuckin wit my sick ass flow |
Ping-ping like Ricochet Rabbit |
Or Quickdraw McGraw, cuz this is the last straw |
Alakazam, I be the magician master |
There she blows, and it Fall like Niagara |
M.C.'s be swearin they could flip the script |
But ya best pour like Malky and don’t be ridicolous |
A soldier, straight from the battlegrounds of Hell |
Lyrically, I’m killin M.C.'s like brain cells |
Til we, are precede to commit bad deeds |
A roughneck from the projects, live like New Year’s Eve |
Chicks on my dick, like my hand when I’m pissin |
In fact, I got more tricks than a magician |
To be, or not to be, a real M. C |
Deal wit me, I stay black like B.E.T |
Shaolin, oh my lord, niggas is tryin to front |
They want beef, so give them craps what they want |
Rhymes be down like members of the enterprise |
You can’t defeat me, so when will you realize |
You guys get black eyes, when I smoke chocolate cha |
My styles massive fly, like plains in the sky |
The baddest brother in the Shaolin hemisphere |
It’s a nice place to visit, but you wouldn’t wanna live here |
Release, masterpiece constructed |
If nigga is pussy, I leave 'em cherry busted |
Dusted, who can fuck wit |
Or master absent minded bastard, burns crowds like acid |
Yeah, I’m blowin the spot wit a loaded Glock |
Niggas get popped like a condom |
And tight twat, blaow, my Shaolin style causes death |
My brainstorms are more deformed than birth defects |
A sick individual, rips more material |
Ill type subliminal, calm the street criminal |
Disrespect, you’ll get recked, kid, I’m serious |
Thou shall burn like an infected clitoris |
None can match me, technique’s too nasty |
Pussy punk chumps bleed without a maxi |
Bring ya, who dare play me on the trigga |
I love guns so much, I bust nuts when I kill a nigga |
Out you end, the rugged top contender, surrender |
You’re style, I Bone like Linda |
Yo, pass the gat, kid, so I could blast those |
And let off more shit than that split between ya asshole |
I maintain, to pull my frame, out the corn |
Shaolin What! |
Move on 'em stomp |