Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Freaky Flow, artist - Special Ed. Date of issue: 31.03.1995
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Freaky Flow |
| My flow is vivid |
| I give it two-hundred percent |
| That’s a hundred for me And a hundred for the rent |
| I know whatcha meant, Joe, I gotta flow too |
| Cause they wack every show I go to |
| I be leavin' |
| I don’t be beleavin’they be even |
| Beleave in they own shit |
| Actin’like they owwwn, shit |
| Butcha never will |
| So you better chill |
| Or getcha grill, peice, torn by the beast |
| You get the claws |
| Across your jaws |
| Hear the roars |
| Now we gonna lock the doors |
| Your trapped in a rap like a def game |
| A left came, then a right, then a fight came, |
| then a light came, then an eternal night came |
| Now your in it, in less than a minute |
| Don’t ever try to battle cause your never gonna win it You better know your limit boy |
| You better know your limit. |
| (chourous: (Jeru the Damaja) Got a, freaky, freaky |
| freaky freaky flow. |
| (Brother J.) It’s freaky deaky |
| It’s freaky deaky. |
| 2x |
| I’m here |
| Not fronichole, but lyrically present |
| I’m in the flesh, yo, ain’t it fresh |
| I got that Special Ed shit |
| Slap that dead shit |
| Now play dis |
| Now say dis (your the greatist) |
| I got enough to stuff into the ladies |
| I rub her with a rubber |
| But I’m lyrically raw |
| Protect your neck and double check your jaw |
| Cause I’m gettin’bummy |
| A’yo I’m still gettin’money |
| Yo, ain’t it funny |
| How you can’t take the ghetto out the Ed-O |
| Maybe I’m just crazy |
| Why I think, I wanna kill my shrink |
| I see, pink hearts, yellow moons, orange stars, and green clovers, |
| and red blood all over, a dead leprechan |
| with a time bomb tied to it’s arm |
| In Saigon somewhere on a farm |
| I gotta calm, down |
| And hit the wright wire |
| Or fight fire |
| Maybe it’s a premenission, or intuition |
| Or some kind of vision |
| But either way, I’m on a lyrical mission. |
| I think it’s because I break the laws of language |
| Like a sandwich |
| I eat the whole beat |
| On whole wheat |
| Cause it’s good for your teeth |
| Imagine a vaginal nigga like you on the street |
| Back on the concrete |
| Feet up Gettin’beat up So when we meet up, give your seat up And rise |
| The honorable Ed is presiding |
| Stop biting, stop writing, stop hidin |
| I hate fish motherfuckers, but I like writting |
| And snappa, blue fish |
| I go to one fish two fish |
| Or some lobster |
| No I’m not a mobster, but medoddion |
| If I was white I might say: party on, dude |
| But I’m the original rude |
| With the New York talk |
| So just peep, because the skills go deep |
| So look, and think about it, before you leap. |