| Yo whattup E?
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| Yo whattup Starbuck, what’s goin on?
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| Yeah how you livin?
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| Yeah you know just smokin every day, whassup?
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| Yeah let me tell you hip-hop's WACK man
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| Yeah I know, say word
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| All these MC’s got diseases
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| Yeah they got like frostbite, there’s a bad plague baby
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| MC’s got delusions of grandeur and such
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| Yeah man, yo we gotta tell 'em whassup
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| Now go make a record, and go rob a bank
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| Now you got Cool C-itis to thank
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| Copped that advance, but lost that check
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| Must be due to Alzheimer’s onset
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| Go up in the label, when honies start feelin ya
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| Hobbes you better catch some A&R felia (?)
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| And female rappers don’t have a chance
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| Need flow augmentation and mic implants
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| Yo, you went to bed with that hoochie redhead?
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| Caught half-steppin cause she got a peg leg
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| Shot your milk, she didn’t swallow it?
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| That’s cause girl was lactose intolerant
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| Smoke with E, you gonna have fun
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| Oh, but by the way, leave with collapsed lungs
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| Try and spit, but nothin comes out
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| Braindead MC’s all got cotton mouth
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| This be a list of hip-hop's diseases
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| Too much ice gon' have shorty sneezin
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| Too much 'dro will leave a kid wheezin
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| Head’s too big, stab you up for no reason
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| You with wifey dog, get a car from Sonya
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| It’s likely you’ll catch Nokia phobia
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| You shiverin from ice, hold a mic device
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| It’s most certainly some rappers frostbite
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| Go up in the club, in moderation
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| Cause online you be catchin Peter Geisha’n impatient
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| Ha ha, rollin trees, only got seeds
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| Man’s puffin crystals, green with envy
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| Rhymin for the loot, to get some mass
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| You a prime candidate for a heart bypass (clear! clear!)
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| You online, think you the dopest
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| Geek caught a case of wack internet-a-tosis
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| Startin rumors, check the tabloids
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| Caught a Blaze haze, maybe Source hemerrhoids (ouch)
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| Wack on stage, with off-beat ailment
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| At a show catch a microphone impalement
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| Scrub your hands fifty times, and wash the smut odor
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| Obvious obsessive compulsive disorder
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| Up I got downers, down I got uppers
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| Now chuggin Pedia Sure for fuckin suppper (glug glug glug)
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| Step to E, no microphone contest
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| Soon learn about inferiority complex
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| I’m stuck on hip-hop, can’t get a fix
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| 'til Mighty Mi deals me a dope remix
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| Now I’ll supply prescriptions
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| Come to the motherfuckin spot, if you havin wack visions
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| Writers block? |
| Just can’t flow?
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| Hit you off with a double mic hydro
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| You goin gold if you got the patience
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| Son check in you got rap hallucinations
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| The surgeon, wack MC’s I carve up
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| Hip-Hop med school, Dr. Starbucks
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| Yeah E, I don’t know
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| I still don’t think they know
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| Smut Peddlers, Cage, in the house
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| Mighty Mi, in the house
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| Yes indeed all the dirty people, in the house
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| Yo, you better go get checked
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| Go to the clinic, cause you got somethin
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| Don’t say you got nothin
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| Cause we’re all diseased, right |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Diseases , by - Smut Peddlers. Song from the album Porn Again, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп