Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Noorotic, artist - Redman. Album song Dare Iz A Darkside, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.1993
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Rush Associated Labels
Song language: English
Noorotic |
Y’all motherfuckers buckle y’all motherfuckin seatbelts |
If you need to get high, there’s a mask and shit in the overhead compartment |
I can’t tell y’all what the weather’s like cuz my radio’s fucked up And if we should experience any type of motor difficulty |
Don’t panic, take one more hit off the oxygen mask |
Calmly put your hands between your legs |
And kiss your black ass goodbye! |
I’m swift like a motherfuckin gift for Christmas |
When I send my vapors off like Halls menthalyptus |
My verbs and nouns shatter walls of underground |
Let me be blunt: I like crackin brews with bitches |
The ninety-four era I cause terror, whatEVER |
Rainin on you punks with the funk, so get your umbrellas |
My guns cruise, tennis shoes, what’s happenin |
I got clapped on, now I’m the one doin the clappin |
I’m Flexi Wit Da Tec like Artifacts make Memorex |
blow tape decks when I’m more strapped than latex |
Felt like menopause, I make niggaz act like beatches |
Yo yo that nigga Red be frontin -- with they ass full of stitches |
Woo! |
I just don’t give a FUCK |
I bite your whole nipple off, sick like sickle-cell anemia |
Travel around my curse universe |
I’m droppin 98.7 degrees down to Red Alert |
Droppin the slang, I’ll bust your brains with the real shit |
Come hit my blunt so I can make y’all feel it Abuse niggaz verbally so call Dyfus |
I’m a warrior, to the heart, but I didn’t kill Cyrus |
Noorotic, my style format rocks the project |
I get as ill as chief of police on narcotic |
Give me a time and I’ll free your mind and lick your |
funky emotions, to blow your veins up with funk overdosing |
Now who’s that nigga that got your crew bellin? |
Not with guns with funk when I rock tracks like Van Halen |
I’m in the world, with Jacob’s Ladder |
I’m seein a lot of happy copycat rappers actin like they got asthma |
They attackin me, they slowin they rhymes down actually |
They got factories with little dolls named after me But it’s no question my funk segment leave the whole atmosphere |
pressed-in, I take advantage of niggaz like I was molesterin |
Newark New Jersey’s what I represent |
Iiiiiiiyiiiihhhhh |
My brain be zoned and I phoned home to ET’s home |
and to hook me up with stash spots to put my chrome in Whattup to Prince Street, Avon Ave I roll a spliff with |
Fat to be passed through Bedrock and Diamond District |
So what the fuck I got clapped on for my truck |
Then I laughed cause fuck the cash I just wanted my tape bag |
Fantastic fabulous my shit is fat shit |
The bomb like Elway throw bombs on John Madden |
Fuck that, let’s get to the point, my shit’s the joint, I roast |
Motherfuckers from the East coast to the West coast to your breakfast |
voltage, I got funk for days by the buckets |
PPP packs a bunch of wild motherfuckers |
Hold hold hold, wait wait wait |
Let me school this bitch |
Yo bitch my shit is tight, can any MC do this |
And come back on the mic? |
I think not, my paper make pen leave nuff ink spots |
On blocks where your punk ass still bustin off slingshots |
Talkin shit about me when I’m drivin by slowly |
Sayin I’m this and that when half y’all punks don’t even know me Now just for that I let your girl suck my dick from the back |
and let your moms give me cornrows on my crack |
Cause I’m nasty like that |