Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Superstars, artist - Styles of Beyond. Album song Megadef, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 08.09.2003
Record label: Spytech
Song language: English
Superstars |
Aiyyo, first things first |
It’s time to shake ground in the eighth round |
Box battle and break down |
For the beak in the rhyme tone |
jump in the cyclone |
S-T-Y-L-E-S, yes I know |
Give the rap phene vaccine |
packed red beam |
Put 'em up, what the fuck |
You plucked a bad seed |
Off the wall, spittin’the guerilla tag team |
What’s up now, duck down stuff that can’t breathe |
Yo- you know the routine, the demon effect |
Please, don’t step, you wanna be one of my pet peeves |
The more beef the better; |
sound gay |
But you all wanna sleep together, ok In the club we gon’sneak berrettas |
Why not? |
We got so much street credit, the fuckin’police let us Now that’s bullshit, cause we don’t pack heat |
So come and get your head crackin’up at me Kick it- movin’it’s on now |
Making it punk loud |
Shaking the buck wild |
Rapin’the punk style |
Fakin’the funk pal |
Dunk watch the punk |
What now? |
Watch your battleship get sunk down |
Click (click) pow (pow) knocked (knocked) out (out) |
What? |
Just what I thought, what’s up now? |
Hu- Hu- bugs out through the speaker |
dap-dap dabbin’the track with both hands |
I’m like Hu-hu- bugs out through the speaker |
dap-dap dabbin’the track with both hands |
Hold it down, never give in Styles ever get limbs |
Or whether you want it to end |
Dirty seringe, I murder 'em again |
97 serving them sins |
Uh 30 your friends get knocked out, turbulent wind |
Hopped out, what you want, big verb in the gin |
I’m a fish; |
you can tell by the flippers or fins |
Yo- I got a rock style |
Pivot the offspring and joke with 'em |
With a distorted gist off string |
Who am i? |
Rushin’what leg? |
who and Tak? |
Pushin’your bed hotter than Quebec in July |
Area 51, stereo, rive gun live |
Here we go, S-O-B drop some |
For the kids in the hall with the new block tape |
Blast from both angles like boom dock saint |
So get up get up and let the sound hit ya Snap it’s already ya style picture |
(Lot electrical) |
Who the hell wear splittin’the belly up on a selfish |
Shinnin’in your style playin’the fell blitz |
Drillin’your brain, like rap and video games |
Feel the seringe for the styles that stickin’in your brain |
Yo- what kind of shit is he on |
Really is styles, really be on |
C’mon punk fuck off; |
You really gotta be gone |
Ripped out of your brain |
Pissed covered in shit to diss this S-O-B game |
Son of a bitch |
I’ma start killin’for kicks |
There ain’t an air force 1 inn the globe I can’t fig, get it? |
I’m sick with it, when I spit the venom |
And it drip’s up in 'em |
And it get’s the women in a Quick dilemma; |
We can settle it now |
And I don’t know who did it but they said it was styles |
bugs out through the speaker |
dap-dap dabbin’the track with both hands |
bugs out through the speaker |
dap-dap dabbin’the track with both hands |