Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Rated "R", artist - Redman. Album song Whut? The Album, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.1991
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Universal Music
Song language: English
Rated "R" |
Nah nah nah, fuck that! |
Don’t hold me back, the Funkadelic Devil just snapped |
with a rap, that’s shittin on the story of Jack Sprat |
So put your money where your mouth is, watch Redman house shit |
And if it’s beef I’ll punch you in your mouth kid ('Damn!') |
I got a heart but my heart is made out of nails |
Word to? |
Jamel?, my heart pumps nails in my blood rails |
I’m not a warrior or Bavarian type of nigga |
I’m just quick to smoke your family then fuck your sister |
That’s what type of shit I’m on, word is bond |
Been thinkin about playin that nice guy role? |
Cause every since I was an infrant I was different |
Paid no attention to my moms when she ripped it I was a hardheaded mother-eff, but had to step |
cause she hit me with a left, then another left |
That’s why my brain is out of order |
because it just a quarter to manslaughter your little daughter |
And do a driveby, fuck that, I walk by and I spray shit |
then carve my name in your pavement |
I was Rated 'X'but I flexed |
I beat up the devil with a shovel so he dropped me a level |
Ain’t that ill? |
That I could just stand and watch a bloodspill |
from a known rapper, but now the rapper’s no frill |
Just because I made a record I’m a star, that’s bullshit |
What’s the flavor? |
Tim? |
(Fuck what you heard, this rated R) |
Chorus: repeat 4X |
I’m rated R, this is a warning -→Rakim |
Boy you can’t fuck with me! |
-→Ice Cube |
Back to part two of the segment, the Red bend |
mics of all types, pour beer out for my dead friends |
And if I didn’t know ya, to hell witcha punk |
and tell the devil I’ll be in town for lunch (heh heh heh heh) |
Got Naughty in my Nature plus I’m down with O.P.P. |
The best part about it, I got AIDS, bitch! |
Psych, I’m only kiddin, only do it to ugly women |
cause the pretty one’s puss smell like they went fishin |
I grab my dick with a tight grip, cause I might flip |
(Yo Red, kick that hype shit on who you had a fight with!) |
I had a fight with Chuck, the punk motherfuck |
tried to stab me in the gut, so I dazed him with a uppercut (BING!) |
Snapped the neck on Michael Myers then I freaked it; |
cause it was August |
and he was talkin this trick or treat shit (Trick or treat!) |
Jason my man slangs rocks like up the block |
143rd and Amsterdam by the smoke shop |
Norman Bates work the night shift late |
Since he dresses like his momma, I pimp him and his hoecake |
Bust a maneuver Freddy Kruger, dreamed about |
me havin him scooped, he woke up with his zooks up That caused me to cut the hands off the man with the chainsaw |
Plus I got his brain pickled in a jar |
So let’s get down with the funk break, cause they tailgate |
my rap style, so to cut em off I truncate |
And rough em up, tough em up, like bust em up with the one-two punch, like servin a customer |
And if you hear a man that sounds like me smack him |
Then ask him where the fuck did he get his damn raps from |
I know, from me, THE original P-Funk |
See ya next LP chump! |