Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Bleach , by - Styles of Beyond. Song from the album Megadef, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 08.09.2003
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Spytech
Song language: English
Bleach |
| Yo, swing the sword for the classic year |
| Bring the noise with your hands up, slash and tear |
| Who can, fathom asthma, dash for air |
| Spittin’on the baby bib in the plastic chair |
| What’s up stupid? |
| (Shoot this) |
| 1−5-1 in the shot glass |
| (Hot flash) |
| Bangin’on the drum, huh |
| We cause havoc down in Las Vegas |
| Paper trails racing Pelican Brief-cases |
| We outrageous, name the streets gave us Yeah, we got fame, but now we heat blazers |
| I let 'em all fly, 10 in the clip, 1 in the chamber |
| Thumbs up! |
| Another banger |
| Untuck the flamer, dumbfuck |
| It’s like gettin’with a dumptruck |
| Brains and guts |
| Maim, cut, aim, duck, same, stuff |
| Get you cracked up like cocaine, heat 'em up OK, I’ll let a sucka’s fly once |
| Face down, found him in his Cap’n Crunch |
| Uh, malpractice — a bang-all jam |
| I joust rappers and track in the radar scans |
| Flip beats for the crew like fleets and platoons |
| Reach for the moon like Reese Witherspoon, uh Don’t stop the sure-shot, the (???) anthem |
| Blast the gold box, cock back the cannon |
| What’s up partna, I got ya (what, what) |
| Hope that (spoken gunshots) crack the piata |
| Slap, box, mouth of backwash |
| Teeth mashed up on the asphalt, ya dig? |
| Set the pace like a mustang, mashin' |
| Up the stakes, who wanna cut the cake, I take cash |
| Dropped on a blood-stained mattress |
| Stop, you ain’t got access, watch |
| I’mma change my asset, Ryu and Tak |
| You little cunts in the game, you can suck my cum |
| And lay flat on the ground, don’t make 'em peep |
| If you want the stains out now, get the bleach |
| Guess who’s got the rubber gloves and the bleach? |
| Guess who’s rockin every club, that’s me Get so hot, you feel the buzz in the streets |
| Keeping it knockin', Jay drop that beat |
| Guess who got the group name on top? |
| S.o.B. |
| (Styles of Beyond) got the rap thing locked |
| Who want what, when, why, and what not |
| Who got next up, Ryu and Tak |
| Yeah, here it comes, all you hear is a click |
| Bloody brains on the sand was like Miracle Whip |
| While the blood keeps gushin', relish and pink mustard, huh |
| I’mma slam till I tear it to bits |
| Till the bell for the recess rang |
| On the defense game |
| You feeling (???) like P.F. |
| Changs |
| Hopscotch on the corpse till I drop the torch |
| And burn crews for their views that would rock with force |
| Sayin, don’t stop the sure-shot, the (???) anthem |
| Blast the gold box, cock back the cannon |
| What’s up y’all, we don’t stall |
| Come one, come all till we drop the ball like |
| Guess who’s got the rubber gloves and the bleach? |
| Guess who’s rockin every club, that’s me Get so hot, you feel the buzz in the streets |
| Keeping it knockin', Jay drop that beat |
| Guess who got the group name on top? |
| S.o.B. |
| (Styles of Beyond) got the rap thing locked |
| Who want what, when, why, and what not |
| Who got next up, Ryu and Tak |