Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Souls Of Mischief, artist - Souls Of Mischief.
Date of issue: 31.12.2002
Song language: English
Souls Of Mischief |
Kaboom! |
The Jedi’s back to seismic |
Shock ya, I’m the doctor |
With the donor organ I amputated from your body, shotty |
I got equipped with slingshots to fling rocks and clean clocks |
I’m leaving emcees in comas, traumatized |
In conniptions when I flips my scionic powers |
It’s been hours, since you cowards |
Got devoured, when I showered these |
Catastrophic flows, I’m overwhelming foes |
‘Cause Phesto’s rhetoric’s the sedative bestowed |
Upon ya, misdemeaning the schemes when I shift your blisters |
(Busta Rhymes: «Always misbehaving and mischievous») |
Yo, now I gotta kill a nigga quicker than AIDS virus |
Will a hoe try the flyest? |
‘Cause I just |
Know that fools will never know the half and then I laugh |
‘Cause I never sweat none of them niggas from Telegraph |
And I never ever front, but I pull a clever stunt |
And I do it better so I bet it’s what you want |
Give me the props and while you’re at it, get off the penises |
Of the Keener kids, you seen I did |
Destruction, what’s in store, skins for me |
‘Cause I am the man and you can only pretend to be |
A-P-L, you know the rest is history |
X is finsta be flexin' instantly |
Since it be my turn, I burn like VD |
Venereal Disease and I bury all emcees |
Souls of Mischief, my bros hoes can get with |
I suppose that a foe knows who is gifted |
(Busta Rhymes: «Always misbehaving and mischievous») |
I’m sly, swift like a stiff spring breeze |
Swing schemes of a nature that is mischievous |
My soul is into this, render this |
Mic property, properly |
Or I’ll pop ya, G, see I got to be |
Incarcerated, hated by the boys in blue, poison you |
Pose a threat, if you wanna step then I can voice a few |
Verses, curses never catch me ‘cause I’m crafty |
Nasty like your bitch getting rich on the ave, see |
I’m a vandal and I think the vast majority that bore of me |
I’m well-endowed, shroud the head with a beanie |
Now I’m feeling camouflaged, my bat is lodged in your ribcage, meany |
Miney mo, find me, Joe could cross me on the PM |
Creepin', crack the cranium when I see him |
‘Cause Opio gets even Stevens, tis the season |
For swinging bats and taxin', breaking backs and |
Smacking all the suckers ‘cause I’m thieving |
(A-Plus: Ayo, who’s it on?) |
Tajai ‘cause I’m flyer than invites |
And when mics are gripped, dips flip |
The bat will then hit with the stiff one |
Gets funds for freakin' words and herds of huns |
Now chumps, um, fight ‘cause I hit more skins than sunlight |
So one plight is equal to the flight |
Heads, bob or crack as Louisviller flies opponents |
And frauds get jelly or come crummy like the donuts |
Chewy, many have said when I envelop folks |
I can come flyer than sex on Hubble telescopes |
Hella folks are heathen, there’s no reason for existence |
Persistence to drive then you die; |
why bother |
I shoos off foes like Japanese restaurants |
The best ain’t gots to practice, I bat kids and adults |
Ask folks why, because I’m leavin' |
Ayo fuck this shit, man, I’m out… |
(Busta Rhymes: «Always misbehaving and mischievous») |