Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song White Tyson, artist - Madchild.
Date of issue: 25.06.2017
Song language: English
White Tyson |
Yeah |
I am back with a vengeance |
I’m a cowboy that hangs with the Indians |
Yeah I’m dancing with wolves |
But I ain’t hiding nothing, I don’t wear sheeps clothes |
Look into my mind it’s a freak show |
If you don’t like what I do you can deep-throat |
All eight inches |
Fuck you, fuck hate and fuck fake friendships |
Yeah |
I am violent frequent |
One thing I’ll never get is the silent treatment |
Work everyday, that’s my fucking secret |
I’m the underground king so I’m not beneath it |
All you fuckboys that shit-talk |
Punch a hole through your face like it’s gyprock |
Take a hit bitch, dip. |
You could kick rocks |
I’m dope like a brick rock of yay' in a Ziploc |
I’m a Wu-tang Clan freak |
Plus I’m colorful like Toucan Sam’s beak |
300 pound gorilla that snorts cocaine |
Put a lighter to my mouth, spit propane |
Everyday I’m losing hair, I need Rogaine |
Before I get my teeth fixed, probably get a gold chain |
Flow so cold man |
I am here forever, I’m classic like John Coltrane |
Yeah |
Put your cash away |
Put a rapper in the ring, I will smash his face |
Knock him out cold to a basket case |
I am young Mike Tyson, I’m Cassius Clay |
Yeah |
One of the greatest of all time |
I am young Mike Tyson in his damn prime |
Half these cats that are big now, they can’t rhyme |
So I’ll keep fighting 'till the bell, reading champs minds |
You will find no resemblance |
Tats on my face wearing Pendleton |
(Baxwar) |
Got a skull that’s an emblem |
Stylin', the look in my eyes got them trembling |
MCs sitting on the rafts, bunch of simpletons |
Smash like I’m serving on a brass out in Wimbledon |
Get stomped while a crowd starts assembling |
I’m wearing Red Wing boots, never Timberland’s |
Still, that’ll leave such a mess |
Like my life last year, now it’s the fucking best |
Please, don’t put me to the fucking test |
Slice your heart while it’s beating right from out your chest |
Yeah |
I’m on a rise like I’m stepping on an elevator |
Writing songs for the kids, you can tell they’re faded |
A lot of dudes get old, fat and hella jaded |
But I’m a bionic man, brain’s accelerated |
Yeah |
Put your cash away |
Put a rapper in the ring, I will smash his face |
Knock him out cold to a basket case |
I am young Mike Tyson, I’m Cassius Clay |
Yeah |
One of the greatest of all time |
I am young Mike Tyson in his damn prime |
Half these cats that are big now, they can’t rhyme |
So I’ll just fight 'till the bell, reading champs minds |
No choice but to get productive |
If I don’t create I get self destructive |
Slap a rapper like a puck |
That’s Canucks, no fuck stick |
Don’t criticize if it’s not constructive |
Not the one to fuck with |
Say another one, you should try your luck with |
When it comes to killing shit I am bursting out the seams |
All these other rappers really all as thirsty as it seems? |
I am hungry, please believe there’s a difference |
Not acting like a bunch of crack fiends on a mission |
Madchild, I am mean, I am vicious |
I’m so clean that I glisten |
Yeah |
So all these rappers better get a grip |
I’ve give the people what they want to hear instead of shit |
I leave scars, start cracking like a leather whip |
I got bars, start snapping when I let 'em rip |
Yo |
Put your cash away |
Put a rapper in the ring, I will smash his face |
Knock him out cold to a basket case |
I am young Mike Tyson, I’m Cassius Clay |
Yeah |
One of the greatest of all time |
I am young Mike Tyson in his damn prime |
Half these cats that are big now, they can’t rhyme |
So I’ll just fight 'till the bell, reading champs minds |
(That's whats up.) |