Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Social Distortion, artist - Prince PoDate of issue: 18.07.2004
Song language: English
Social Distortion |
| For the love of Christ |
| I don’t need ice to leave you froze |
| Turn your brains to toothpaste |
| Squeeze till it blows |
| Grim Reaper with rap flows |
| Rap’s a trap, those attack |
| Foes who lack respect get head cracked (oh!) |
| Survive with the movement |
| Madness, domestic abusin' |
| Extortion, Organized Konfusion |
| Teenage abortion, tossed and forced to prostitution |
| 9/11 distorted the law’s proportion |
| We was one unit (word), now we back to bein' monkeys in mosh pits |
| Drama and mayhem, soon as the dark sits |
| Spark the heart, bacardi dart |
| Rotty-doddy aside |
| The Maserati, dog, respect the art |
| Black Max with smarts |
| The special effects that light up your heart |
| Me on the mic is like the bite of a shark |
| Ignite, and drove ya bullshit |
| Right off the chart |
| Out the hood, most misunderstood |
| I gotta stay sharp |
| Remarkable with this modern day art |
| Pos' the soldier from Rosewood |
| Vanilla dutch, touch that’s so hood |
| Blaze like blueberry haze |
| You know how we roll in these last days |
| Smash cats into raps for (?) |
| For them, it’s Poe (?) |
| Spittin' that '89 crack flow |
| Tap hoe |
| Bounce out the back do' |
| But not without his gat, tho' |
| Danger Mouse came with that |
| Bent back, the big grim track |
| Get back, Po |
| Hmm. |
| Is that so? |
| The first Hip Hop chat show |
| Whoever talk slick get they lip popped by Fatso |
| Bum, feel the sting linger |
| Wrote this humdinger with a |
| Dislocated bling finger |
| Still king of the hill, it’s the DOOM-Hour |
| When he came to spit more gibberish |
| Than Boomhauer, mayne |
| Wigs’ll bleed with the quick speed |
| Drag 'em backstage |
| Like the tiger nigga did Siegfried |
| Caught a deal on a sawed off |
| Bought off, suit and shells |
| And a hood shit |
| Just to ward off the groupie-males |
| Most will boast that his flows is coastal |
| I hope he get on the mic and don’t go postal |
| But keep it blissful |
| It’s wishful thinkin' |
| Piss full of drinkin', fist full of Lincolns |
| Pistol full of lead with, one in the head |
| And a fan base that spread from the unborn to undead |
| Dunn said, terror alert high |
| Dress code when it’s stress mode, it’s shirt and tie |
| A certain guy told her ignore the mask |
| A flirt in a skirt to make you beg for the ass |
| Baby got back, maybe got black |
| In a stranger house, Danger Mouse |
| Gave 'em hot tracks |
| Aks’d him could he bark on the beat |
| And spark Cali |
| Villain not the cat you wanna meet |
| In a dark alley |