Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Urban Legend, artist - Molemen
Date of issue: 15.12.2001
Song language: English
Urban Legend |
We gun hold and not one cold and safe under the sun solar |
So when I squeeze off 8, I’m guaranteed to make 7-Up yours like the uncola |
Or retorically nice almost effortlessly |
Born with a silver spoon in my mouth like infants with epilepsy |
Shit, years after my prime leaves |
I might have to resort to lettin' the nine squeeze to convince dick riders |
To kindly let go of mine please |
You a third nut separated at birth one conjoined testicle to tongue siamese |
Last summer we jumped Out The Speakers and fucked shit up with the Vianese |
Now watch me take a cold and this piss with a full bladder make time freeze |
Golden shower the globe 'till every snowman across the fuckin' planet turns |
Chinese |
My mentality is necrose red dot shit |
To the face of the planet catchin' back here’s ya' freckles |
Me and J-U overshadowed the league, so you blaze battlin' with two dicks in |
Yo' mouth till 'yo jaws give it out from battle fatigue |
The professional’s red dot’ll turn these niggas into vegetables |
So vivid I could kick it at the Cannes Film Festival |
Decaffienated coffee shop niggas get assassinated |
I was vaccinated with a syrum that was rap related |
I spit a theorem full strength I don’t approximate |
Intoxicate ya' ho and show you footage o' da cock she ate |
Whether Glock 3−8 grenades and street sweepers |
Address me on yo' knees like students should greet teachers |
My intellect special, I hold my tech special |
Jet Li or Bruce, pick one I’m next level |
The rest see me new some smoke six blunts inhale em' |
And hang em' out to dry like Witch Hunts in Salem |
Shit my status dope enough to catapult me to the top |
We blew the spot like it was just another buddah drop |
You couldn’t dream of winning if you used your imagination |
Triangle Offense and Molemen collaboration |
Am I the sickest nigga shittin' on em'? |
No doubt |
Y’all niggas want the heat? |
Than get ya' dough out |
Kill with niggas before they even spit they flow out, we brought it |
When y’all took the whole route |
Fuck around and get yo' ass tore out |
Am I the nicest nigga spittin' it? |
No doubt |
You niggas want the heat? |
Get ya dough out |
Big Juice rip niggas before they even spit they flow out, we brought |
It while y’all niggas took the whole route |
Fuck around and get your ass tore out |
And like I said we spit the vividest rhymes because we livin' it |
You’ll need eight more rappers just to make this shit equivalent |
Juice crush this, any mic that Juice touches |
We be all in your girlfriend’s mouth like toothbrushes |
Nasty off the head and when I’m in the booth fuck it |
Like the skin on Edward James Olmos I’m too rugged |
I could either thug it, lug it round or unplug it |
Represent illmatic half time on one love it |
It’s murder to cassette and I beg you to come dub it |
We could either use our hands but Tom just stun gun it |
And I ain’t ever been known to have the cleanest and demeanor |
But I get the whole U.S. Open like Venus and Serena |
Period, this is How We Chill, Freestyle or Written |
When we came Out The Speakers last year they didn’t listen |
So next time I crack they bones follow me |
I’m so much doper than mc’s, I owe these niggas an apology |
Fuck sweating bullets niggas perspiring |
Sixteen shot clips when I put they heat on slow roast |
I don’t just outshine you, I show my ass and make yo' face the co-host |
While me and J-U run a triangle on yo' bitch |
Feeding these balls in a low post |
I’m a cross breed between |
Letter T crosses in the letter I infrared sick dot us |
Poison fingers until my wig smarter, from a hennison vine a stigmata with |
Lacerations half Christ and Big Poppa |
I’ll push the envelope far beyond the term ill limits |
That’s why some of the nicest is still timid |
If I said it than Kill meant it |
Playa, only way yo' jersey hanging from the rafters |
Is if yo' bitch ass still in it |
One penis lacin' double penetration my pen is wastin' a semen tastin' |
Substance on a fragment of yo' imagination |
Fuck for the laugh of the exit wounds |
I’ll plug brains with .50 caliber slugs and plant seeds in exit wounds |
I wipe my shit cat or corn it’s just to whip motherfuckers |
And zig-zag and watch his wig drag |
In 2000 Triangle Offense gettin' dough and big bags |
While you buy season tickets to ride dicks fag like six flags |
Am I the nicest nigga spittin' it? |
No doubt |
Y’all niggas want the heat? |
Get ya dough out |
Big Juice rip niggas before they even get they flow out, we brought |
It while y’all niggas took the whole route |
Fuck around and get your ass tore out |
Am I the sickest nigga shittin' on em'? |
No doubt |
Y’all niggas want the heat? |
Than get ya' dough out |
Kill with niggas before they even spit they flow out, we brought it |
When y’all took the whole route |
Fuck around and get yo' ass tore out |