Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Thunda Cats (feat. Dysphemic), artist - Thundamentals. Date of issue: 01.01.2017
Song language: English
Thunda Cats (feat. Dysphemic) |
| Yo, I can |
| Stun a disbeliever just by writin' a song |
| The type to revitalise your vital signs by vibin' along |
| It’s that eye of the storm upon this mic, it’s like a |
| that’s right, I’m a don |
| M—m—m—mind's aligned with higher guidance, flyer than fighter pilots |
| I’m like a fire, light up the sky with the vibrance (pick it up now) |
| Completely known to leeches, bloodsuckers like to bite this |
| They finally succumb to gum diseases if they decide to try it |
| I’ll beat that buzzer beater (beater), off my sneaker (sneaker) |
| Once it’s clean enough I’m g’in' up the puffin' of the reefer |
| I love my cheeba at least as much as Cheech does |
| Indeed I’ll munch, I’m like a piece of fuckin' pizza |
| Stuff a preacher, I ain’t up for bluffin' |
| See I just begun to I dream of seekin' certainty |
| But if you feel it come to see us, my team runs procedures |
| On some heeby jeeby freak shit, my steez could stomp a genius |
| Sweet Jesus |
| You we are ultimate |
| We be the ultimate, there’s nothing close to it |
| For all my homies with a bone to pick |
| On that b—b—bogus shit get—get—get over it, yeah |
| You see we are ultimate |
| We be the ultimate, there’s nothing close to it |
| For all my homies with a bone to pick |
| On that b—b—bogus shit get—get—get over it, yeah |
| Ayo, we’re fresh, son, etching gringos name up on your windowpane |
| Jeswon, the opposite of a rapper that’s rockin' shit for brains |
| Gu—gu—gu—gu—guess what? |
| I have never been in this for the glitz and fame |
| No to whips and chains, survivin' off the minimum wage, we’re winnin' the race |
| A million different ways to end up in the same spot |
| So we take off just like the Doc, Emmett sayin', «Great Scott!» |
| Jet in the DeLorean, legends I’m applaudin' |
| Enthrallin' the audience with a performance |
| The panhandlin' paupers that manhandle the fraudulent |
| Fantabulous formulas, black magic for sorcerers |
| Puttin' an end to a whack rapper who poorly flips |
| Call it quits thanks to my cantankerous authorship |
| This moment of clarity cut through the cacophony |
| And suckers who drop it sloppy, not rockin' the spot properly |
| Honey’s are flockin' while these knobbies are cockblockin' me |
| Knockin' me (why?), 'cause obviously we’re hot property, yo |
| You see we are ultimate |
| We be the ultimate, there’s nothing close to it |
| For all my homies with a bone to pick |
| On that b—b—bogus shit get—get—get over it, yeah |
| You see we are ultimate |
| We be the ultimate, there’s nothing close to it |
| For all my homies with a bone to pick |
| On that b—b—bogus shit get—get—get over it, yeah |
| Yeah |
| I be the ultimate (ultimate) |
| We be the ultimate (ultimate) |
| Yeah |
| I be the ultimate (ultimate) |
| We be the ultimate (ultimate) |