Lyrics Tyson - Remi, Sensible J

Tyson

This is gold medal rap
Me and my people never holding it back
You’re never safe from harm, this is a massive attack
This is an arrogant slap to those preaching the wack, I tell 'em
I get it popping like cracked knuckles
I’m rap fucking these cats, snack on 'em like lamb cutles
And I dance on 'em like Jackson on the Bad tour, huh
You should style watch like TAG Heuer
Or kick goals like Man U, and I’m rewriting the manual
I’m the shit like manure, uh, I’m Samuel
With Bruce, so my new name is Zeus
And you don’t wanna die hard
So you and your troops better retreat fast
While I get teeth marks off your sweet heart
And I’ve got deez nuts just for weak cunts
They’re for the baddest mamma jamma
Sh-sh-sh-shake it around, I’m getting salmonella
From these fresh chicks, I mean, they duck the best sick
Fucker, I am the bestest kind of investment
Fucker, I don’t regret shit, that’s my message
If you need a life lesson, fuck with the Rem kid
You’re aiming for success, huh?
Shit, I’m destined
Beats by J. Smith, they call me Rem Wesson
I play the foreign kid at my school like Fez did
Now I’m gonna kick it with a female thespian, action
Uh, and turn the lights on
And someone tell these dickheads the fight’s on
Uh, uh, and I’m Tyson
Circa '88, get right, son
Pure dominance, I tell you that I’m fond of it
Think I’mma hold onto it and write all of my songs with it
Huh, call me the Don of this, I’m fucking astonishing
Been smoking on a lot of shit, chilling like astrologers now, huh
See you’re playing lozenges now
You fucking suckers, I’mma show you all what I’m about
I’m about 5-foot-9 with dark brown eyes
I’m about well-shaped thighs on well-shaped fine women
Owww, I’m about to tear it down
'Cause I’m all about burying the crowd in sound, huh
It’s something so strong like it’s Crowded House, huh
I got the whole town wildin' out for hours, yeah
See they’re playing owls when they hear me like
«Who-who-who the fuck?»
I’m like, «This shit is too cool
I make your heads get to spinning like tutus
I’m the fucking do-do-do-do
You noodle-headed buffoon losers, what up?»
Uh, and turn the lights on
And someone tell these dickheads the fight’s on
Uh, uh, and I’m Tyson
Circa '88, get right, son
Uh, and turn the lights on
And someone tell these dickheads the fight’s on
Uh, uh, and I’m Tyson
Circa '88, get right, son
Look, Mum, we did it, we went and lifted it up
Sensible J and Dutch raising it up
Fire on the track, numero one, uh-huh, look
Let’s sum it up, I son 'em, then cull 'em, then cum on their girls
I’m running amok, if you’re dumb enough
Go ahead and say something
I’m a track murderer, I’ll leave your day done
The way I’m weaving leaves them disbelieving
It keeps their footing uneven, I see 'em steaming off of my heat
But that’s life, son, when you’re on tracks like Tyson
Nah, fuck summing it up, this is priceless
This shit could straighten an icehead
Or make Christ spark spliffs, I mean it’s that wild, man
It belongs in the X-Files, man
And I’m hot like Thailand, charged like bison
Yeah, I never bystand, lead like Tyson’s right fist
And you’re dead and I’m done, this was a cinch for me
Sensible J and Dutch, yeah, they did the beat
I guess we did it again, I guess we killed it again