Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Stop the Press, artist - OpioDate of issue: 14.07.2008
Song language: English
Stop the Press |
| Your whole team is a crowd of charlatans |
| A sad commentary on the hearts of men |
| We barked once then we bargin' in |
| Make or lay mothafucka cuz we sharks with fins |
| One drop of blood in the millions gallons of water |
| I’m on to galvanise your slaughter |
| Appear out of nowhere like how’s your daughter |
| Laughing hella fiendishly… your hardest rocker |
| Commin from the sideline commentary |
| Tom and Jerry pop cherries, but I ride freaks |
| Girls who like to shrub me at the royal reefs suites |
| And more of these beats can ensure that we eat |
| They flounderin, lobster and shrimps |
| Snakes will surround you, you gotta be swift |
| Indiana Jones and the temple of doom |
| My thoughts are Al Capone, how your enemies loom |
| Uh it’s psychological combat |
| With that empire infallible with life that’s beyond rap |
| I come from an era where your mic can get charged at |
| From rappin on stage and you look like a mall rat (hehe) |
| Silent Bob see, a violent mob |
| At the house party trippin when the mic is on |
| Pencil neck geeks and pipsqueaks is mince meat |
| Hacky sack and frisbee, now you wanna mc? |
| -what? |
| You ain’t halfway creative |
| A sideshow oddity the math I relate |
| Keep your mind growing constantly, smile for the cameras |
| You never get a show where they wild with the hammers |
| Hear it into your soul like a rays of a gamma, with stamina |
| See it into your eyes you’s a cancerous tumour |
| A sideway shooter and a rumour mill |
| Ganks getting over but I’m sure to hold a mil? |
| Me I’m not about all the rubys and emeralds |
| And «alibaba-alakazam», I keep it simple |
| You come thru the east side of Oakland |
| Showin these diamonds glowin |
| See your neck might get broken, I told em |
| That’s not a threat it’s a bet, I keep it low key |
| In the jungle they know me as Mowgli |
| Raised with the wolves but I only go so deep |
| Back in junior high my homies used to hold heat |
| And get that money sayin «Op» got cold feet |
| Fuckin with that herb and rock, duckin police |
| I gave em multiple reasons, I’m close to my freedom |
| And don’t wanna be em, when cold and not breathin |
| I roll with the heathens |
| Most of us roach, so we focused on greenbacks |
| And hope to achieve that… |
| American dream |
| Pirouettin ' vets and harrows thats clean? |
| It’s the pharaoh black king |