Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Super Luv , by - Ultra. Release date: 31.12.2000
Song language: English
Super Luv |
| Yo, what’s up I’m Tamika Jones from 'Keep it Real’Magazine, and I’m |
| about to enter the minds of two of the most controversial rappers of one of the most underrated rap groups of all time, the Ultramagnetic |
| MC’s. |
| First, Kool Keith, why in your songs do you always refer to the |
| words anal and rectum? |
| And why do you always use the words doo-doo and |
| pee-pee? |
| Because that’s what the whole fucking rap industry is. |
| Besides, I have other words like gorilla, parakeet, giraffe, and |
| also… monkey |
| As I strike in your area, shut down close your shops |
| Your crew got high blood pressure, you still bite on pork chops |
| Your style is greasy, so what your hair is nappy peasy |
| I wet your brain and tie your penis to the two train |
| Drag you down the tracks, spray paint like artifacts |
| With the rest of your crew, tied and smeared with dog doo-doo |
| You know my trash bags are packed, lick my nut sacs |
| Emcees are still wack, on the new smell like mildew |
| Gimmicks is your plan, strategy is stop your marketing |
| When you rhyme the mic steps from the socket and |
| You could never be classic, your rappin skill’s plastic |
| All that hard and mean look I’ll get your ass kicked |
| Pistol whupped like a bitch, get smacked by your pimp |
| Your steelo’s undercover, corny on the real brother |
| Keep that mop down, just like your album sound |
| You flop, no niggas bound to make my head bop |
| So save that cartoon shit for Saturday |
| Everything is booty |
| Between your legs you sport a cootie |
| Don’t fuck with me Holy anal catastrophe Kool Keith, that’s fucking amazing! |
| But I think |
| your fans will want to know how you’ll accomplish this. |
| Can you |
| explain this to me? |
| With the A1 6600 phone detector |
| Y’all can’t tap my shit, eavesdropping in the projects |
| Missiles dropped, your narrow hard times stories flop |
| I’ll throw grenades and blow your rectum out your fucking block |
| Hush town, your staircase becomes a mental town |
| Cover your peephole, wires reach bombs in your window |
| Your elevator stopped, your bubblegum sitting below |
| I thought so, your verbal shit wasn’t fucking pro |
| Go flush your toilet, crack the bowl, see the fucking bomb |
| Three seconds flat your fucking chest splatters in your palm |
| Iranian arab with muslim bells on my face |
| Skeleton bones, I stash bazookas in the chicken place |
| My helmet’s from haiti, infrared’s at my house |
| Uptown bronx with cheese traps for you fucking mouse |
| Federal tax bullshit I light your real estate |
| Raw in to stop (?), your asshole’s tied to a milk crate |
| Suck my nuts with dual tube night vision goggles |
| Biological agents blew Waco Texas |
| Dynamite’s packed in trunks, alarms on your Lexus |
| Suck my dick for real, my 44 mag is steel |
| I’ll catch you out there, your crew’ll have grey hair |
| Super luv, super luv, baby, super luv, superman, superman luv, lois |
| lane, superman luv, superman. |