Lyrics Monkey Shine - Pumpkinhead, The Plague

Monkey Shine

«Look, have any of you heard of The Army of the 12 Monkeys?
They, they paint this
They, stencil this on the sides of buildings everywhere
Have you seen this?»
«Mr.
Cole?»
«Have you seen this?»
«Why don’t you just take your time
And try to explain' this whole thing from the beginning.»
I’m tired of hearin' about your theoretical skills
Like underground was a miracle pill, like you lyrically ill
You could get offered a deal for three quarters a mill
And still suck like you underwater, breathin' through gills
You enter every battle tryna get a few kills
Get a few thrills and can’t write a song that’ll sell a few mills
You could join Cypress Hill and never «B-Real.»
Better to chill
The Plague spreadin' will increase your medical bills
You worthless (hey).
We above the clouds and beneath the surface
Any state, city, borough, town where CD’s get purchased
Even if we re-word this, these words’ll leave you nervous
Don’t ask, don’t tell, faggot, or you’ll be asked to leave the service
It’s The Plague man, beatin' us is dead like a graveyard
Don’t get your head chopped off like «Braveheart»
The 12 Monkey Army, move like a bunch of zombies on Harleys
We the Angels of apocalypse, not Charlie’s
I’m the type to beat down a car thief
With my son’s car seat, and stop his heartbeat (b-boom, b-boom)
Y’all don’t want beef—y'all all weak.
We twelve deep
Night of the creeps, we patrol your streets
Don’t make me blam your team up—you ain’t tough!
You a Warrior Princess like Xena with C-cups
R&B diva on this beat—I bat clean up
And got black kids jumpin' like the cast of «Sarafina!»
12 Monkeys is the clique, biohazard’s the symbol
Y’all fools ain’t nimble, your rhymes is simple
Don’t Erick Sermon your career, it’s flyin' out the window
How many ways to end you, offend you?
Quadruple, six million, reptilian
Cold-blooded chameleons hangin' from the ceilin'
I paralyze myself, just to kill you with no feelin'
Eel skin scaly, move like Hailey’s Comet
Through the projects, flying objects
In a cockpit with Davy Crockett rockets
Cock and bust it, double-barrel musket
That could cut down a grizzly to the size of a Teddy Ruxpin
Uhh, Blitz, yo
Lightin' in, I strike in the wind, I strike and I win
A mic and some Henn' and I’ll strike on a whim
Ya hype man hyper' than you and I’m hyper' than him
Brooklyn belongs to us, I got a right to defend
I’m terrific with the freestyle in spite of the pen
You hear it freestyled, go home, and write it again
That’s when I go right past the writin' and go right to your chin
Nose, eyes, swell up, develop, bruising and tightening skin
You might be a Mighty Mouse but fightin' mightier men
We ride in custom choppers with twins, you bikin' on Schwinns
We got custom twin choppers that could chop off your limbs
This the beginnin' for us, for you a frightenin' end
Plizzle!
If the beat’s perfection, I’m speech injectin'
With inflection to make men reach erection
We’re detecting all wannabes, haters, and yes-men
Spread quick, dead shit, kill 'em off from infection
It’s not just an expression sayin' we’re Lethal Weapons
Plus there’s still Pack, Tone, Stan, Seed, and Session
Give your man drugs, get cops to arrest him
With Gang green boys in blue is your only protection, c’mon
Watch out now!
It’s so tragic how I add another cadaver quick
You’d think I’m on some magic abracadabra shit
Half of you scatter, half of you rappers attract to it
Like mag-a-nets.
Don’t have the strength to smash my elaborate lab
Within my labyrinth—The Plague!
Collaborative narratives assassinate you characters
Even the baddest kids disparage when I carry 'em
Like Passion of Nazareth, it’s so embarrassin'
So amateur, low caliber, no stamina
Too often awful off and on camera
Before my primates get irate
You better peel ‘cause we hungry like seven plus five apes
«Y'all don’t want beef, we twelve deep, y’all all weak» — Pumpkinhead
«The 12 Monkey Army» — Pumpkinhead
«Assassinate you characters» — Wild Child
«The Plague spreadin' will increase your medical bills, you worthless» — GMS
«Kill 'em off from infection» — Kameel-Yen
«And fallin' victim to The Plague» — Wyclef Jean
«Brooklyn belongs to us, I got a right to defend» — Blitzkrieg
«12 Monkeys is the clique, biohazard’s the symbol» — Pumpkinhead
«just the beginnin' for us, for you a frightenin' end» — Blitzkrieg
Rosario Dawson, you know you’re my boo (my boo)
I saw «Alexander» and «Kids», I’m fallin' for youuuu
And I know tomorrow, you’ll still be the same
Cause you got some big ass jugs, girl don’t even change cause
Eeeee-veryyyyy day, I think of your boobs in my face
Put 'em on the glass and make 'em shake, with a smile
Take time to tell me (to tell me) you’ll really care
And we can sip this bottle, togetherrrrrr
We can drink this Henny (Henny) forever
Foreeeeeeeeeeeeverrrrr… touchin' your boobs