Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Midwest Choppers, artist - Tech N9ne.
Date of issue: 16.07.2007
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Midwest Choppers |
Welcome to misery punk, we deep rooted in this |
You know what I’m sayin' |
KCMO, KCK, you know what I’m sayin' |
That’s how we do it, Tech N9ne in this place |
Trying to produce a record, say what |
Welcome to misery where the killers pop it up |
When I say pop it up I mean deal it at the turn of the gun |
We can do it if anybody want it, where the rapper niggas |
They clappin' up and now they tell everyone |
Misery loves company so we done with thee |
Enemy when it be energy sendin' me the route |
My negativity trippin' wit me, you runnin' for your life |
'Cause you ran your mouth, mouth |
We can sing or we can bang |
It ain’t no game we untamed |
Whether it’s fame or we can aim |
Release your brains, it ain’t no thing |
(Midwest Choppers) |
You heard what I’m sayin' |
We livin' in pain and it’s a shame |
That you came and got drained |
And listen man, stay in your lane |
(Midwest Choppers) |
We can sing or we can bang |
It ain’t no game we untamed |
Whether it’s fame or we can aim |
Release your brains, it ain’t no thing |
(Midwest Choppers) |
You heard what I’m sayin' |
We livin' in pain and it’s a shame |
That you came and got drained |
And listen man stay in your lane |
(Midwest Choppers) |
Find the witness to murderers monologue of a minute |
Come out of a sinister formidable place |
I can let you know the in’s and the out’s and I can spit it wicked |
Twisted and you can see by the look of my face |
Give me the mic and I’ma mangle it, tangle it |
Definitely the people see that I got the hang of it |
Pig you gotta try to make a mockery of a city who |
Pock 'em and block 'em why can’t you get it, we dangerous |
Came to get strange with it, bang with it |
Stop and get a little untamed with it |
Get the chopper like a fully' ya bully with a hoodie |
Soon to get up and take him out or split cane with it |
Well the answer is right before your eyes |
Who do you despise? |
Killers who chop you |
We gotta stop you, pop you partner, you gawfin' |
Get up outta the way when Techa N9ne be bustin' |
Gotta give it up I’m a veteran like Edison |
I’ma light 'em up and get in your head again |
I’m better than ever, never let 'em feather |
Invest it, be fed it since it separated |
Hit the mic and then we buy a little medicine I’ma |
(Choppa, Choppa, Choppa) |
Automatic kickin' the ammunition |
Killin' the competition know it ain’t nobody |
(Hotta, Hotta, Hotta) |
Damagin' everythin' and everybody you know we on a mission |
Listen to me, how can I make you understand I’m a general? |
Even if you poppin' the competition in minimal |
Can’t see the killers |
And you can bet that we criminal |
The thing inside of me keep on tellin' me when to go |
So I’ma keep reppin' the Midwest Choppers freakin' flows |
And I’m about to be up on top of this and truly be bustin' |
Beggin' for mercy you punk I ain’t givin' you nothin', nothin' |
We can sing or we can bang |
It ain’t no game we untamed |
Whether it’s fame or we can aim |
Release your brains, it ain’t no thing |
(Midwest Choppers) |
You heard what I’m sayin' |
We livin' in pain and it’s a shame |
That you came and got drained |
And listen man, stay in your lane |
(Midwest Choppers) |
We can sing or we can bang |
It ain’t no game we untamed |
Whether it’s fame or we can aim |
Release your brains, it ain’t no thing |
(Midwest Choppers) |
You heard what I’m sayin' |
We livin' in pain and it’s a shame |
That you came and got drained |
And listen man, stay in your lane |
(Midwest Choppers) |
Never worry we be the best whenever somebody take the bite |
Ain’t talkin' about women, I’m talkin' about paper |
Be caught in a dilemma after the sin, already coded |
They’re wounded, they’re competition would for sure |
The killa must be like a fully damn brettin' made company |
Tough with or with the Baretta tucked right under my sweater |
And we hide it in the lot where the blood of my killas |
Be keepin' the apartment, partner you tight but my dealers are better |
We keep a chopper like a blender eatin' boys up for dinner |
The Guillotine will chop your hands of and throw 'em out the window |
We’re too critical for you well your walkin' away lookin' so ridiculed |
Why ADDB we be the number one contenders |
When they come to the street whats the post on the block |
For the killa I’ma liftin' my middle finger up to the cop |
So on the way to the studio we go 'bout makin' another hot track |
They be lovin the way that we spin it when we try commentin' lots |
And approach to the definition of a soldier |
My opposition is the my cultural future |
I split like atomic and anybody MOY I’ma fond of make |
Me and my killer guerrillas willin' 'cause we’re the corner boys |
They tryin to battle 'cause they want our position |
But they ain’t never gettin' in it, because the music is bigger here |
Like I told you we’re number one competitors dealin' |
We’ll connect with them to the top |
And then we’ll stop till they get the millions |
In the hone of the century they been walkin' the limbo |
Chemistry you can never cross with them |
Thinkin' inside that they either be as a mean ever polite |
You can try to read us, you can try to beat us |
Try to get your speed up but it ain’t gon' matter |
'Cause after we get bendin' bustin there gon' be no laughter |
We takin' over the network, Tech N9ne is the master, master |
We can sing or we can bang |
It ain’t no game we untamed |
Whether it’s fame or we can aim |
Release your brains, it ain’t no thing |
(Midwest Choppers) |
You heard what I’m sayin' |
We livin' in pain and it’s a shame |
That you came and got drained |
And listen man, stay in your lane |
(Midwest Choppers) |
We can sing or we can bang |
It ain’t no game we untamed |
Whether it’s fame or we can aim |
Release your brains, it ain’t no thing |
(Midwest Choppers) |
You heard what I’m sayin' |
We livin' in pain and it’s a shame |
That you came and got drained |
And listen man, stay in your lane |
(Midwest Choppers) |
(Yelling my voice out loud) |
I get to representin' the city, get the cane |
Holla your brain 'cause I’m a disaster |
Dalima get ready, get decibel comin' atcha |
Leave 'em in a predicament 'cause I’m a style master |
And I’m impressionable now, just so ya know |
I make 'em sweat 'cause I’m best with the flow |
Whenever you wanna flex, we can go, keep stressin' your code |
And I’d rather make you dance on the floor |
Midwest’s gonna flow like, she’ll flow with the more strike |
'Cause the energy is the bomb |
I can tell that you fascinated by the way we rhyme |
And we glow like with the more strike with the fire |
Baby, now you need to say it off |
'Cause I’m sippin' on heindig and bustin' |
Like your sendin' your enemy’s now |
Irritated with the haters that be comin' around |
So I kick it like a brother but with a African style |
Meetin' with them I' really sure so, I’m too sick for a cure so |
And no need for a doctor my bod won’t work |
Late in makin' yo nerves straight 'cause they caught ya |
Hands down when I popped ya, now |
Let’s take a trip to the back of your real guilt |
Strange individual with the mettle to ill skill |
Public outnumber howlin' with the bro’s was real screwed |
Get down 'cause the talks could be farce and big wheels |
Talk with it, let me act like you get tough with it |
When they talk, come out of truck’s bitichin' |
Often there’s crane’s, you know |
Killers gonna be devoted to leavin' yo bodies smokin' |
But really you can’t get down, what is it? |
An exchange problem |
'Cause whenever I’m bustin' it’s like a full heart stopper |
Dalima, Tech N9ne, Kaliko with D-Loc |
Rippin' up with the flow 'cause we Midwest Choppers |
We can sing or we can bang |
It ain’t no game we untamed |
Whether it’s fame or we can aim |
Release your brains, it ain’t no thing |
(Midwest Choppers) |
You heard what I’m sayin' |
We livin' in pain and it’s a shame |
That you came and got drained |
And listen man, stay in your lane |
(Midwest Choppers) |
We can sing or we can bang |
It ain’t no game we untamed |
Whether it’s fame or we can aim |
Release your brains, it ain’t no thing |
(Midwest Choppers) |
You heard what I’m sayin' |
We livin' in pain and it’s a shame |
That you came and got drained |
And listen man, stay in your lane |
Nigga nigga you better act right, get right |
'Cause I’m the baddest nigga hookin' up with the fastest bad-ass's |
Hit you with the lyrical, lyrical miracle whip incredible |
Like to knock the head of a several |
Diggy, diggy down what’cha piggy found |
At the c-c-clownin' house Is bound for your town diggy, diggy, diggy |
And if you lookin' for the sound it can be found |
With the nigga wearin' the crown, are you really with me? |
And when you hear it then nigga then zip it |
De-zip it, make you want to reposition your pivot |
When we write it and spit it we makin' somebody get it |
And if they wont' hear it then go live and forgive and forget it, stop |
I write and keep babblin' on or rapplin' off at the mouth |
While we travelin' when were diggin' it |
I’ll speakin' about the things that I’ll be doin' |
Couple a scoop and I pop my mouth free stylin' |
But the road with you and you and you |
And I can stop with the drop of the Caribou |
And if they see me pop and their still with you and you |
And I won’t hesitate to chop you until you, what they do with you? |
And if you lookin' for the betterer the betterer to combust |
You got the Cali gun for fun |
And if you throw people some black attitude |
When you attack 'em on the check-amo, they putting down the gun |
That Dalima is a chopper, D-Loc a chopper |
That Tech N9ne's a chopper |
Kaliko will knock your block off |
You never see it come and hit you |
When we gonna get runner, we walk off |
'Cause is more than breath we want |
And we come in here headhuntin' |
But we won’t stop till we get to the top |
Givin' the way that we’re Midwest Chop, ya |
Strange music bitch, seven years of excellence |
T on T and N, 9 and E, real numbers bitch |
Now from us to you, Tech N9ne collabo’s |
Welcome to Misery Loves Company, and for all the haters |
Fuckin' peasants, suit you, mother fucker, figure it out |