| It ain’t no mistakin'
|
| Rappers out now be fakin'
|
| I thought it was a
|
| Then why the fuck he shakin'?
|
| This nigga scared
|
| Oh, I thought he was weird
|
| Back-bone connected to the bitch-bone, yeah!
|
| That’s why he be mumblin'
|
| Fumblin', not rumblin'
|
| I thought he spoke German
|
| His bitch-ass be stutterin'
|
| So what’s the situation?
|
| Yo, I had a revelation
|
| Fuck up the patient?
|
| Yeah, start the operation!
|
| «Stick to the script, read it like we wrote it
|
| Don’t switch the pitch, bitch you can quote it
|
| We sense nonsense, … just dilute it.
|
| Bitch blood pumpin' through your veins and we knew it (watch out now)»
|
| What? |
| Look at you, gettin' all your feelings, trynna think of a way to downplay
|
| anything I say
|
| You just a bitch, acting like you ain’t a bitch, hoping never be exposed for
|
| being a bitch
|
| Soon as you find yourself in the company of individuals who, for the most part,
|
| got they shit together
|
| You start talking about cool shit that other people do, then stuck yourself in
|
| they shoes like we gonna think it was you.
|
| But you’re not that clever. |
| (Stupid) You can’t slip past our radar,
|
| not even in stealth mode, 'cos once you cross the threshold you zapped with a
|
| barcode. |
| so no we all know and you can never go incognito.
|
| 'Cos your ID reveals your past and untold truths, you’re a bitch-blood carrier,
|
| you’re not contagious but nobody wants to be around you.
|
| Now you done fucked up, bro let me tell you, y’all on some bullshit,
|
| that’s why shit fell through. |
| Reneging on contracts, got kinda yeisty,
|
| saw dollar signs 'cos I was on MTV.
|
| Talking that dumb shit, you want half for publishing? |
| Bitch work for hire,
|
| now you gets nothing. |
| Tracks wasn’t that good, … album’s done anyway.
|
| Fuck around, need you just like old management: told Ming go solo?
|
| You fucked your own self, that was a no-no, go 'head with that bullshit,
|
| your touch ain’t platinum, you had us and Daewon, tell me: what happened?
|
| Industry sources said that your label dip came from the Spooks. |
| Oh,
|
| that’s the playing field? |
| Nigga, you bitch, thought it was all sweet?
|
| Save all that rap and I’ll see you on a dark street.
|
| Implant
|
| You hold the strobe light
|
| Take out the heart, yo!
|
| Divulge the big knife
|
| Go get the funnel
|
| You got the blood bowl
|
| Bitch blood spillin' and, oh!!!
|
| We stealin' your soul.
|
| No courage!
|
| Thick blood
|
| Y’all black as porridge.
|
| Disbarred, mentally fradulent, you thinking it hard!
|
| Chop a nigga lifeline short, you livin' too long!
|
| (Some lyrics missing, all help appreciated. I know at least some of them are
|
| contained in the booklet for S.I.O.S.O.S Volume 1, but I don’t have it to hand). |