Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Strike A Nerve , by - Naughty By Nature. Release date: 02.09.1991
Song language: English
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Strike A Nerve , by - Naughty By Nature. Strike A Nerve |
| Yo, Treach, it was some bitch in a seminar |
| Talkin bout you had to get up early to wax this |
| (Strike a nerve) |
| Them other motherfuckers said you couldn’t even wax that dirty bitch |
| So wassup y’all? |
| (Strike a nerve) |
| I get my daily dose of cha-cha-cha and «Shut the fuck up, ho» |
| Shit, shaved, and bathed e’ryday then I must go |
| Ugh, this is Everyday All Day, let’s all say |
| Pluckin enough and roughin em up and fuckin em up always |
| Bet, let’s talk about a back flash, ya jackass |
| That fast you flash witta match, your fast rap |
| And even though you didn’t know me before the flow solo |
| It’s no slow way to go, bolos I throw or sold |
| Let’s pick a bitch to pick with, peekaboo |
| I see you thru your crew, now whatchu wanna do? |
| After that, caps off to the black frost |
| My pants always sag cos I rap my ass off (Oooooh) |
| You wanna talk about a badboy *?sanchoi?* |
| I’m bad as they come, chum, straight up ricochet rap style |
| To Vin Rock and KayGee, I’m the baby |
| Droppin the ladies, cravin ya maybe, I have the right to be lazy |
| Got more stretch to my swing and the stretch of a chicken wing |
| The flavor is bacon and its cravin is icecream |
| I’m too trucked to be fucked and too live, otherwise |
| Ya drive by’s smuffler, word to the mother, my brother eyed |
| Runnin and comin, drama starin wit a stellar |
| I need so many lumps, I’ll use your head as a braille book |
| Many friends ships ink, quick, fast |
| It’ll take a dollar worth of gas to outlast your little tired ass |
| You tried to swing this way, you little swifty |
| (Ha ha ha, slum bitches still miss me) |
| I do the dumpin, humpin, clappin like thunder |
| And that’s comin from a land down under |
| Yo, I’m sick of dis shit, man |
| Niggas tryin to cut V-Rock's nuts! |
| (Strike a nerve) |
| Yo, they tryin to make us drop Vin Rock, sayin he don’t rock enough |
| Yo kick that shit |
| Prepare for the worst, cos I ain’t livin loss |
| I wouldn’t just give a fuck, cos givin is free and my fuck’s cost |
| I never get lost in The Source, cos I know my way |
| I been there before, maybe 5−6 times a day |
| Sometimes I put my hands on my head when I’m done, from |
| And wondered to myself where did dat def shit come from? |
| And then I think about the Naughty and the Nature in it |
| And then the Flavor then the figures while I’m flowin wit it |
| So I won’t give up, stop, stall, quit, ya kitten |
| You can’t touch this, fuck what them throats written |
| I got tracks, better known as snaps, far forbidden |
| And the warm do, I know, I know how to make ya feel it |
| I’ll take a head, I’ll make ya spread and now lay back |
| I tell you once, I tell you twice, Vinnie don’t play that (You don’t?) |
| So don’t start, there will be none is the lesson, folks |
| I hate cigarettes but my Smith & Wessun smokes |
| ]From anywhere, from any corner, anytime that’s right |
| Who you bashin? |
| I go blast in broad daylight |
| You stand hard, you look hard, yeah, your figure’s soft |
| I got nuff props from buckshots that niggas caught |
| Ya say you can’t go to the takin me out close |
| Huh, in that case, you shoulda named your album «Almost» |
| I wouldn’t rely on the try if I was you, yo |
| Cos I’m turnin tries into «oh oh’s» and «hell no’s» |
| I wouldn’t be caught dead witchu up in tryin it |
| And if I was goin, I get my stiff ass up and rip shit |
| I can’t go out like a wooden sock with padlocks |
| I’ll leave tacks tiny and slimy like snot spots |
| I write a day, to me, it’s a common caper |
| Say so much shit, huh, I write my rhymes on toilet paper |
| Yeah, Vin Rock, backbone of Naughty By Nature, y’knowI’msayin? |
| (Strike a nerve) |
| That’s right, so everybody sleepin on the up, stay off of my dick |
| (Strike a nerve) |
| We’re gonna stomp this time around, word up |
| (Strike a nerve) |
| Look who’s mother’s in the studio, thirty sons and daughters |
| Mrs. Happy Thing is in the back catchin quarters |
| Come and try to run wit it, never in a lifetime |
| Thirty ??? |
| could act at Caesar’s, still I bet I get mine |
| I heard your girl’s havin a baby, now will what she have? |
| A bag of dope, a bottle, or crack, or a sess bag |
| There ain’t a part of me with 'sorry' written on it, slick |
| You couldn’t rock a crooked cradle, you fuckin prick |
| The way I rock could shit, you just often like it |
| My style’s so fat I had to throw it on a water diet |
| Bullshit ya not, I ain’t the type to be fuckin with |
| Wreckin with, and if I mic attest it, I’ll be neckin it |
| Onslaught at an encore, you stinkin rat |
| You’re so dumb you tried to buy a fuckin thinkin cap |
| Now that tells us in a sec right where your head is at |
| In between some bitch’s legs, lookin ass and lap |
| My name is Treach, remember this and don’t you ever 'fess |
| That’s a shame, I get two minutes just to say «Next!» |
| Fuck who follows you, you and them could help each other |
| I treat you both like any other motherfuckin runner |
| This is the Flavor, tasty although sugar-free |
| So have a Coke, have a smile and have a booger, G |
| (Why?) Cos you don’t mean shit to me |
| I’mma take you ??? |
| where good shit’s meant to be |
| I rock a rhyme that’ll be a straight up def track |
| Droppin more shit than White Castles and Ex-Lax |
| A studio to me is just a chance to rock, G |
| I rock and rock, god damn, call me VinRocky (ha ha) |
| It’s just what the fuck I’m talkin bout |
| I say one thing and your whole crew’s walkin out |
| So do the lyric here, this is one lyric less |
| If I were you, I’d take and throw em on his fuckin neck |
| Something that flow should come straight from the horse’s mouth |
| Mr. Ed’s dead so his ass is the best way out |
| Shit man for hire, this hitman is the law |
| I run more tracks than a San Francisco trolley car |
| Prepare for the win-te, oh yeah |
| I could write your fuckin album and you’ll soon be the last one there |
| I start to heat up and rip shit in one, see |
| You couldn’t get it hard if the eyes were on Broad Street |
| So don’t you ever never tell me I’m not good enough |
| I got more stuff than a teddy bear, from ass to gut |
| This is a solid you could never outlast |
| If bullshit was worth a dime, you’d have a job in a cow’s ass |
| Name | Year |
|---|---|
| Hip Hop Horray | 1993 |
| Feel Me Flow | 1995 |
| O.P.P. | 1991 |
| Pin The Tail On The Donkey | 1991 |
| Holdin Fort | 1995 |
| Craziest | 1995 |
| Uptown Anthem | 1991 |
| Clap Yo Hands | 1995 |
| Sunshine | 1995 |
| Everything's Gonna Be Alright | 1991 |
| Chain Remains | 1995 |
| Hang Out and Hustle ft. Cruddy Click, Road Dawgs | 1995 |
| 1, 2, 3 | 1991 |
| Yoke The Joker | 1991 |
| House Party ft. Boyz II Men, Big Freedia, Naughty By Nature | 2020 |
| It's Workin' ft. Rottin Razkals | 2019 |
| City Of Ci-Lo | 1995 |
| Wickedest Man Alive | 1991 |
| Everyday All Day | 1991 |
| Guard Your Grill | 1991 |