Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Just That Bad, artist - Molemen
Date of issue: 12.10.2004
Song language: English
Just That Bad |
If you got the balls do me |
Fasten cars to me, punchlines are so puny |
Since y’all knew me, I been deep like Paul Mooney |
I might show up so get a hearse |
Ain’t no nigga worse, stab me when I kick a verse, mic’s blow up |
Like a nuclear blast, you see a flash that melt ya |
Fallout shelter can’t help ya ass |
I still |
Flow the same, put a pro to shame |
Lyrics blow your brain need Novacane when I build |
You rewind tapes cause ever line’s great |
I outshine fakes till my mind stays up like the crime rate |
Rappers today bite and pray nights |
Wishing that they bright or say hype rhymes their mind’s assaulted mics |
Anonymous |
Rappers be trying to fuss, «He's outshining us.» |
Rhymes I bust, have you laid up like patients who take on a bus |
I’m a sweet lover |
But don’t sleep brother |
When I creep motherfuckers take deep cover, with each other |
I bury men |
My flow have to bury with vocabulary so no adversary win |
Will’s telling me, for real, fellas be still jealing me |
Cutie’s making booty calls like Bill Bellamy |
Hoes are hot |
Foes are shot down, but the flows I got |
Clubs close a lot, cause I blows the spot |
Fucking threat ya heard nothing yet |
No need for bucking tec’s for rappers to duck and fret or up and jet |
Bustas and marks are first to die when I spark the verse |
Park a hearse for those that started with Perc- |
-ee P, he be burning dicks like V. D |
Only way you can see me is on T. V |
Legs are spread like newlyweds in sheds I dead what’s said |
Since putting heads to bed then fled from FEDS |
Yo' hoe ass got a vendetta cause I always been better |
A trendsetter, fans send letters to me instead of yo' ass |
I came down to shame clowns kicking my same sound |
I’mma reign now, if y’all ain’t fix, split a James Brown |
I’m the poet who’s rhyme was quoted |
Lines are loaded, shine then coated befo' they flowin' |
Showing signs I wrote it |
I outta auction these, style cost some G’s |
Challenger’s eyes make tears like the Force MD’s |
Percee P that’s me I gets nasty |
Rugged, flashy, pass me the mic it’s your ass G |
What I make wreck’s tape decks |
At my apex packing latex for safe sex |
From chickens tricking pay checks |
Killing ya |
Filling ya with rhymes similar to bullets in the cylinder of a Dillinger |
Spilling your brains out |
I’ll blast ya later |
You’re reading essay’s on me the next day like JFK’s assassinator |
Nobody |
Ever went to represent it’s evident why you hesitant |
Cause I’ll take every cent and your hottie |