Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Tyson, artist - Remi. Date of issue: 24.04.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
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 |