Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Palookas , by - Talib Kweli. Release date: 24.01.2011
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Palookas |
| From now on this thing is ours |
| Got 'em paintin war instead of paintin flowers |
| They shower they heroes with praises, while we hangin ours |
| We bring the drums to the battle cause we bang the loudest |
| You don’t know a thing about it, if you mixing King or Malcolm |
| Bet you that Kweli the outcome |
| Album’s so hot, that my ghetto chicks is bringin talcum |
| Whether you sing or shout it |
| They gave somebody else the crown but I’m the King without it |
| Your Queen is ridin with me, she’s always slidin with me |
| You can’t stop me like the bullets that’s inside of 50 |
| They try to diss me but whenever I say «bye», they miss me |
| You walkin with me or you alien like Mork & Mindy |
| You talkin with me if they often envy |
| Take it off the table and the Devil run a label |
| 'Cause the Lord is with me |
| Arrogance bring the fall of many |
| My name echo like the hall is empty |
| You don’t wanna a war against me |
| Hey, if this the cut, I’m the surgeon |
| Assassinate your character, cast aspersions |
| You ain’t got a verse better than my worst one (worst one) |
| You ain’t got a verse better than my worst one (worst one) |
| Hey, I know it hurts son |
| But you against me, a .50 Cal verse a squirt gun |
| You ain’t got a verse better than my worst one |
| You ain’t got a verse better than my worst one |
| Why? |
| You and your man some palookas, you scared of my medulla |
| You see beyond the shadow of a doubt, I’m born ready, steady as the hand of the |
| shooter |
| In the flesh, yes, the embodiment of man verse computer |
| I make all the women abandon they suitors |
| Do the math, you see you can’t measure up to the ruler |
| Word, on behalf of all the fans and consumers |
| I’m buildin with Fred Hampton Jr., man we plannin a future |
| Not preachin, we do it different, we liftin the youth up |
| We spittin it too tough, too sick for these new thugs |
| Or goons, whatever they called, they softer than nubuck |
| Vampires in the club, sippin that «True Blood» |
| I’m a «Midnight Marauder» and a slaughter for the «Tribe» |
| Or mortal line, bustin at the cops like Mortal Kai |
| The sort of guy that mortify |
| These clown ass rappers since 45 live |
| And you know it man |
| Hey, if this the cut, I’m the surgeon |
| Assassinate your character, cast aspersions |
| You ain’t got a verse better than my worst one (worst one) |
| You ain’t got a verse better than my worst one (worst one) |
| Hey, I know it hurts son |
| But you against me, a .50 Cal verse a squirt gun |
| You ain’t got a verse better than my worst one |
| You ain’t got a verse better than my worst one |
| Yo, Sean Price, mad nice, accept that |
| My worst verse sound like your best rap |
| Put on your bent plaque, I pay double on trips |
| I punch you, up in your face and double your lips |
| This be the dumbest shit I ever wrote |
| No 2Pac Shakur, just two shots, ya floored |
| Listen, the gun clapper, the dumb rapper, the young rapper |
| Dig in your pockets and leave with your funds faster |
| Fuckin new rap rookies |
| Get beat to death, New Jack Pookie |
| Face fucked with the H stuck in your grill |
| Play tough and get scrapped up in the 'ville |
| Afro-American minus the afro |
| Bald-headed American lettin the gat blow |
| Shut the fuck up before you get hurt son |
| You ain’t got a verse better than my worst one |
| Hey, if this the cut, I’m the surgeon |
| Assassinate your character, cast aspersions |
| You ain’t got a verse better than my worst one (worst one) |
| You ain’t got a verse better than my worst one (worst one) |
| Hey, I know it hurts son |
| But you against me, a .50 Cal verse a squirt gun |
| You ain’t got a verse better than my worst one |
| You ain’t got a verse better than my worst one |