Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Souped Up, artist - Masters Of IllusionDate of issue: 13.11.2000
Song language: English
Souped Up |
| Man, I turn on the TV man |
| I was in the mall, one of the rappers I seen |
| Up at the mall wearin the gold chains, one of the guys from BET |
| Man them boys is souped up, just |
| I walked up to one with my wife, asked for an autograph |
| He turned his back to me |
| I waste no time tellin you in front of your ugly girlfriend you can’t rhyme |
| Smack your engineer with a tall can of Olde English beer |
| Urinate on your SSL board and your lyrics sheet |
| Defecate in the hood at your store for leavin your fans |
| Butt-naked with a box of Pampers in the middle of the street |
| Blow your socks off, send the girls you take to exquisite resteraunts |
| To Pink Hot Dog, exclusive company just miss the masses |
| Talk to white girls with flat stomachs, no stretch marks, with black girl asses |
| Upscale extravagant, no autographs |
| Tell the Backstreet Boys I’m arrogant |
| Lady singers and rappers, I’m Keith Livingston your lawyer, I’m gonna work you |
| My job is to give you a Benz, close your publishing deal while I jerk you |
| The contract’s ready, you already signed the first two |
| Your buttcrack is I’ma put you on Rap City with Tigger and hurt you |
| Nothin to reimburse you, my voodoo curse you |
| Anything that come out I will alert you |
| Turn your ass around like a marble head baby and burp you |
| Smack you, beat you with a telephone cord, I can reach you |
| All I hear is «yo stop Keith, stop it Keith» |
| Arrogant, autographs, them ni’az can’t sign them? |
| Souped up, souped up |
| While I stay in demand, your naked wife knows I’m cocky |
| Souped up, souped up |
| Yo I drop in buttwipe, doodoo Charmin under pillows |
| That dude who fairyland turd drop with big words |
| Expose my other self, drippin off the bedspread |
| Stank bed, you smell 'em in your head, screamin |
| When you wake up cause it’s obvious, I’m really really really funky |
| Typical Motion tantalizing, climbing up the track |
| The jock’s on, rappers watch me in the field shakin pom poms |
| I got a whole section of 'em loaded |
| Bowl reflectin to the rhyme I wrote it |
| Like Dr. Dooom, sandwich up the rotor, no appetizer |
| Just a full course meal fillin statements from the Motionizer |
| Gorilla grip, I grab rappers by they dry lips |
| Straight thug a bear hug Grizzly Adams couldn’t tame |
| Wild from Animal Bill, also precise |
| Yo mami cosi en carne, yo papi usted Y spice |
| Cause I been spyin on her, extremely relyin on her |
| Your sister too, now whatchu wanna do? |
| (You wanna do) |
| I fuck a n’ia like Chitty, Ohana too, followed you |
| In the air like a molecule |
| The standard prototype, explicit rap extreme and souped up |