Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Flipmode Iz da Squad, artist - RAMPAGE. Album song Scouts Honor By Way Of Blood, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 17.07.1997
Record label: Elektra
Song language: English
Flipmode Iz da Squad |
Drop it Uh, ladies and gentlemen |
Y’all siga siga sing it x6 (Flipmode is da squad) |
It’s the Ramp auto nigga you’ve been waiting for, the outlaw |
Throwing brothers off the seashore, this is your derour |
Flipmode take you to war, kids in the hood can’t take it no more |
I’m the one you looking for |
If eight is enough, I rock my stuff, watch you get cuff |
Yo, you fucking with the wrong bluff |
I got more King than Just |
Niggas make me mad, now I got to squeeze and bust |
Bringing harm with my lucky charm, me and Saddam |
I can’t keep calm, release the bomb, (boom) |
Radiation, to the nation, call your congregation |
My Squad is on plantation |
And word up, Rampage, last nigga scout |
Quick to punch a nigga in his mouth |
That’s word to down south |
Brothers bite my rhymes, acting on preps, spinning my lyrics |
Putting in their lyrical concepts |
This is rap with no rules |
Fuck being cool, old school or new school |
I’m supreme, I’m on the fat winning team |
A lot of clicks wanna dream, peep my theme |
I’m in it to win it, you damn right I’m getting cream |
Microphone fiend, uh Ehhh, eh eh eh eh eh eh eh, eh eh eh eh eh eh, eh Hallelujhah, kids hear this (this), you got to hear this (this) |
Flipmode’s the one and your shit should hear this |
Splitting the guns, causing a earthquake |
My contradict thick like a Mickey D shake |
I give the shit that I know you can’t take |
Fuck out my way for heaven’s sake |
I got my eye on you (you), what you gonna do (do), you ain’t got clue |
(clue) |
Shoo fly shoo fly shoo |
Everything’s peachy keen neato |
Tommy coming fast like Speedo |
Make a blast like a torpedo |
Deep like Captain Nemo |
I brings the primo |
My life will be nitro large, jumbo |
Your shit be itty bitty bitty bitty micro |
In your ass like a vaccine |
Point MC’s to my hilly bill jeans |
I eat MC’s with rice and beans (beans), rice and greens (greens) |
I wreck the whole scene |
Serious, true brother, should not scream |
Yo yo, yo, yo Yo check this here, I be the thug up in your ear |
From here to Cakalaka, the microphone attacker |
Spliff I split psycho soloist, one of the dopest |
Singing songs on recess when I’m giving one fuck, uhh |
Pastor of disaster, I brings it on My Flipmode niggas be like Children Of The Corn |
Running through your block blasting (pow) |
With no questions asking |
Putting bullet holes through your fucking latest fashion |
The ignorant immigrant |
Magnificent, like Morrocco |
Stacking that cheddar like nacho |
The number one honcho |
Dirty nigga desperado rhyme well bravo |
Freestyle felon oops upside your fucking melon |
Breaking fool on they ass just like George did to Helen |
I got the world yelling |
Hit the punashatach unitl it start smelling |
Y’all siga siga sing it x6 (Flipmode is da Squad) |
Yo yo, yo, yo, yo let me continue |
Motherfucker I’m about to send you (ha ha ha ha) |
Check me out, the demon done got up in you |
What the fuck you talking about I’ve been waiting |
I wanna talk to you, shit, watery shit |
Caught the 24 hour flu, soft |
Of course, blow you off course |
Flying through the sky like the Pegeasus horse |
You lost to be the boss, I toss |
Kill corny niggas with no remorse |
Turn my lights off, turn my mic on Yo Busta Rhymes could manifest so who’d be the true lyric icon |
It really don’t matter how much bigger |
I storm all over motherfuckers, like some end of the world niggas |
Like rapid fire, chicka cha, blaow! |
Bust a shot all up in your face, nigga what now |
Mistaken enough I just breaking chicken |
Prepare for the undertaking, your whole body faking |
I always try my hardest to keep communicating |
But you ain’t relating |
You fucked up on what I’m making |
Watch, how we attract like magnets, break your body down to fragments |
Cut you down to half size, quarter size, eighth size, nigga |
Get up off my dick |
Chop you up and bag you up just like a half a brick |
Reversible, rehearsable, Busta Rhymes, almighty merciful |
Dismantle, example, your whole crew will get trampled |
Follow the example, the lyrical nutritionist, the abolitionist |
I revolutionize the music like a fucking revolutionist |
Busta Rhymes will stay snapping while bitches keep on yapping |
When my shit is done, you fuckers start clapping, what the happened |
Rhymes feel like a bunch of diesel niggas, hype niggas |
We be them type niggas, them side swipe niggas |
While you be the apprentice |
My dick up in your mouth just like a dentist |
You Seventh Day Adventist |
My rhymes is in the, uhh |
For memory laps, no halfs, caught up in traps |
I cross country like traveling maps |
Worldwide (echoed) |
One, nation indivisible, with, liberty the god individual |
Cripple you |
Colonize like pirates and criminals |
Convicted of world crimes while I’m world wide in flows |
Modernize and digital |
Evacuate civilize |
Billions tumble |
My skill guzzle |
Iced tea with cop killas, top billas now |
So binoculars to follow |
Blood drops in spillage |
In treetops my gorillas collapse shit, like Alaskian winters (ha) |
Sinners (ha) frostbit |
Lost sleds and lost fingers |
Lord, commander of large missile militias |
Pick, up, dust, like the share croppers galoshes |
And spray Agent Orange from helicopters on impostors |
Then I, return like a Jed-i, with guns are Han Solo and never, seen, three, P. O's |
The good against evil, flash forever |
Spread mash and take |
Drastic measures, blast berrettas |
I carry nines like math professors |
Lord Have, drop jewels, sword slash |
Rob crews that snatch treasures |
Halt, the global giant unfolds the science |
Unify blends the fire to the sea |
I bring crisis and crucifixion with the newest Scriptures |
Rugged who control hundreds |
Who stay cold blooded like anemics |
Paint pictures that keep minds twisted like spinal defects |
Spit jewels |
Watch your platoon |
Lick wounds |
And form scabs before they grif again |
It’s Lord hittin 'em |
And as the world turns, like, Holy Koran scripts |
My response is to keep repping, son |
Terrorize, for six days |
And gon’rest on the seventh one |