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| Beatnuts Miscellaneous Hellraiser Intro: Este hermano esta enloquecido, amigo! Try to play me close and get loose Try to play me close and get loose (Damn, my ears are burning hot!) Damn, damn, damn, damn my ears are burning hot! Damn,goddamn,goddamn, damn my ears are burning hot! Yeah, yeah, yeah, Verse One: Fashion Damn my ears are burning hot I think I got fakin the funk Motherfucks up in my spot They know I'm gonna blow So they press up on The crew like gets dissed Like a fool when I'm gone SO GET OUT, AND LEAVE ME ALONE, CLOSE MY DOOR! I gotta whisper cause I got Some fuckin' ears on my floor They're tryin' to catch on To see who I'm givin' the hoot There it is square biz Don't say my kids [Psycho Les] All these phony motherfuckers wanna shake my hand And behind my back talk shit to the next man Click, bam, a hit to your block, you got beats, but stop! Your shit is wack! [Fashion] Yeah, you better keep it subliminal Cause I don't play, some say My style's type criminal And we can get down, yo for real Yeah, so whatever kid, do what you feel, sucker! Chorus: repeat 4X [P. Les] Try to play me close and get ghost, sucker! [Fashion]Beatnuts forever, die hard motherfuckers! Verse Two: Psycho Les, Fashion You see me and I see you But you still want to act like You don't see me, cool Years ago an A&R dissed Our fuckin' demos and said That shit was scarred BITCH, YOU BIG-TIME BITCH YOUR FOAMIN' YOUR LABEL'S SHIT AND YOU'LL REGRET IT IN A MOMENT Now you eat pills, while I puff on the Phils And still, you can't comprehend your skills You remember the time, only after I performed You called my hotel door, you want to blow me like a storm But Blue, no matter what you do You can't trick this kid Too cool, I thought you knew, fool! Chorus Verse Three: Fashion, Psycho Les Now I got you trapped, feelin weak and nervous Word up, cause I be strapped like the Secret Service The cops they run me down for the guns I be wielding I'll murder a force to get lost between buildings Time to go to war, it's been a raiser, now I'ma flip Rippin more niggaz than an axe in a horror flick Doin mad crime, I remember the days well The demon inside of me had invited me to raise hell I don't want to have to snuff nobody I just drink my twenties with coke with Bacardi Try to play me close and get ghost, sucker! Beatnuts forever, die hard motherfuckers! |
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