Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Pluckin Cards, artist - Ultramagnetic MC's. Album song Funk Your Head Up, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.1991
Record label: The Island Def Jam
Song language: English
Pluckin Cards |
That’s why you were hired |
And i’ll kill anyone, who dares go against me! |
It doesn’t take long for the nightmarish news |
To sweep the world like a shockwave |
The mighty Man of Steel, once the superchampion, admired by billions |
Has proclaimed himself a wildman |
Afraid of going on an uncontrollable rampage at any moment |
Hey yo stupid, you thought I was over |
Living like Oscar, Big Bird and Grover |
I’m the X the man the first challenger |
I keep rhymes in place like Bob Gallagher |
Fittin, and in the chair I’m sittin |
Rappers know I’m Kool, rappers know I’m Keith |
Like Charlie Brown, good grief |
I see rappers I know they turned African |
I just pedal my bike, then I laugh again |
I pull the girls with thread and one string |
They say I’m steppin to them for one thing |
But I don’t think so, you think so, really? |
Tapes is wack and new MC’s sound silly |
I hate to criticize, I have a problem |
In this school wack rappers I’ll solve them |
They wanna be like Ultra on the jizz-ock |
Try to act like they not but on the cizz-ock |
Suckin, takin, aw-ll be slurpin |
Comical bums your wack jams ain’t workin |
You ain’t got the style to rock no man |
You get a pound from me, but with no hand |
Diss em, I’m not the one Miss Ferguson |
Cold stupid as hell like George Jefferson |
Yeah, you dummies better be careful |
I pick up rappers and throw away a handful |
Yes… I’m |
Pluckin everyone’s card |
Twinkle twinkle twinkle little star |
Behind those glasses I know who you are |
You Racer X, here’s rubber speed |
You dissin James? |
He’s chicken feed |
He can’t rap or clap or make a feet tap |
How bout Monie and Nikki they both bullcrap |
I see light in my lamp, but not on the mic |
How could I diss myself in front of Dolemite |
You wanna preach and teach and be a rebel |
Then underline disguise and be the devil |
Call yourself God, can you make it rain |
Can you tell me how or what I’m thinkin in my brain |
I’m not the bighead kid who wanna show off |
I just pick up the mic and then I blow off |
Dirt, crumbs, any type of feather |
You ain’t genuine, toyin real leather |
Pleather, coming out in the weather |
You rap on R&B tracks and whatever |
Hi Uncle Tom, go head entertain |
Dance and get sweaty, and let me use my brain |
I think twice about the big bow tie |
You wearin one? |
I wanna know why |
I see fools all dressed in tuxedos |
And at the Grammy’s, a bag of Fritos |
Dumb people wonder, dumb people think |
Just to be large, do they have to wear a mink |
Drive a Cadillac, drive a Benzo |
A Rolls Royce with a funky Testarosso |
I’d rather stay in New York and not Hollywood |
Fool, I’m |
Pluckin everyone’s card |
You takin off and you’re gold and for what? |
Because you wanna be down and so what? |
You buy your African beads from Koreans |
Africans, you walkin by human beings |
You don’t know, you’re so stupid |
Take the books you read you’re still stupid |
Learn, see the rappers I burn |
You’re coming next, it’s your turn |
Let me sprinkle Salt, let me sprinkle Pepa |
On doo-doo, and whatever |
You wanna speak on the X, then let’s go with this |
I know I’m talented, good, and such a pro at this |
Trade, skill, future my job |
And at lunch I eat a rap shishkabob |
You wanna spin with the real and make a big deal |
Yes, you’re in the showcase showdown |
I hope you’re ready to rock and come blow down |
Huff, and puff, like the big bad wolf |
I’m not the man concerned with that story |
Look out, watch, you’re Three Feet and Sinkin |
The Tribe’s are lost and everyone’s breath stinkin |
Look at one man carry many loads |
I gotta move enlighten a sleepy world |
Remember, I’m |
Pluckin everyone’s card |
Pluckin everyone’s card (yell at the top of my lungs) |
Hahahahaha, you can’t even focus the energies of your own body |
How can you hope to topple the God of War, against his will? |
Pluckin everyone’s card (yell at the top of my lungs) |
You’re one of those peace loving folk singers |
Errrrr, let her contend with this… |