Will Rap for Food Lyrics
| Song | Will Rap for Food |
| Artist | Cunninlynguists |
| Album | Will Rap for Food |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Cunninlynguists | |
| < | |
| "So fuck the commercial tracks you be doin, | |
| A brother got to eat. Why don't you rap for food then." | |
| [Deacon and Kno exchanging verses: (Kno rapping)] | |
| [Deacon] | |
| The music makes me high | |
| Even though I stay away from canibus, like Wyclef | |
| (Deacon and Kno, fry sets.) | |
| Similar to Christ, | |
| (we got divine reps so tell me) | |
| If you know your gonna die (why step?) | |
| Show no mercy | |
| (For rules and crews) | |
| You hit with more bricks than new Ja Rule's | |
| (Riddles confusing fools,) like Confucian rules | |
| (Cos most cats are more squared than Rubik's Cubes) | |
| We spit raps that are totally murderous | |
| (The rhymes are like an anaconda serpent clutch) | |
| So check out how these herbs get touched | |
| (Unless your broads giving us brains) | |
| Nigga you ain't servin us | |
| (Deacon and Kno,) cunning lynguists with stunning English | |
| (Our true lies bring more pumps) than Harry Rehnquist | |
| (Every week) with the best speech | |
| Roll with cats who smoke more trees than the flash and burn techniques | |
| (Sex, beats, between bed sheets) | |
| Red fleets, Pulp Fiction style | |
| (leaving your car with red seats) | |
| We make like fly swatters and smash pests | |
| (Put peeps under more pressure than a Kelly Price bed set) | |
| Keep your bodies looking like samples for the Rorscach Test | |
| (Ink blots,) so fuck around and get your team rocked | |
| (Jugga's in the back with the beam cocked) | |
| Gots to have everything between L.A. and Queens locked | |
| Uh huh, word, uh huh word, yo yo, check it out | |
| Cunninlynguists, know what I'm saying? | |
| You know how we do | |
| I mean, you probably don't know how we do | |
| But you're about to find out. | |
| Like what? like what?... | |
| > |
| zuo qu : Cunninlynguists | |
| " So fuck the commercial tracks you be doin, | |
| A brother got to eat. Why don' t you rap for food then." | |
| Deacon and Kno exchanging verses: Kno rapping | |
| Deacon | |
| The music makes me high | |
| Even though I stay away from canibus, like Wyclef | |
| Deacon and Kno, fry sets. | |
| Similar to Christ, | |
| we got divine reps so tell me | |
| If you know your gonna die why step? | |
| Show no mercy | |
| For rules and crews | |
| You hit with more bricks than new Ja Rule' s | |
| Riddles confusing fools, like Confucian rules | |
| Cos most cats are more squared than Rubik' s Cubes | |
| We spit raps that are totally murderous | |
| The rhymes are like an anaconda serpent clutch | |
| So check out how these herbs get touched | |
| Unless your broads giving us brains | |
| Nigga you ain' t servin us | |
| Deacon and Kno, cunning lynguists with stunning English | |
| Our true lies bring more pumps than Harry Rehnquist | |
| Every week with the best speech | |
| Roll with cats who smoke more trees than the flash and burn techniques | |
| Sex, beats, between bed sheets | |
| Red fleets, Pulp Fiction style | |
| leaving your car with red seats | |
| We make like fly swatters and smash pests | |
| Put peeps under more pressure than a Kelly Price bed set | |
| Keep your bodies looking like samples for the Rorscach Test | |
| Ink blots, so fuck around and get your team rocked | |
| Jugga' s in the back with the beam cocked | |
| Gots to have everything between L. A. and Queens locked | |
| Uh huh, word, uh huh word, yo yo, check it out | |
| Cunninlynguists, know what I' m saying? | |
| You know how we do | |
| I mean, you probably don' t know how we do | |
| But you' re about to find out. | |
| Like what? like what?... | |
| zuò qǔ : Cunninlynguists | |
| " So fuck the commercial tracks you be doin, | |
| A brother got to eat. Why don' t you rap for food then." | |
| Deacon and Kno exchanging verses: Kno rapping | |
| Deacon | |
| The music makes me high | |
| Even though I stay away from canibus, like Wyclef | |
| Deacon and Kno, fry sets. | |
| Similar to Christ, | |
| we got divine reps so tell me | |
| If you know your gonna die why step? | |
| Show no mercy | |
| For rules and crews | |
| You hit with more bricks than new Ja Rule' s | |
| Riddles confusing fools, like Confucian rules | |
| Cos most cats are more squared than Rubik' s Cubes | |
| We spit raps that are totally murderous | |
| The rhymes are like an anaconda serpent clutch | |
| So check out how these herbs get touched | |
| Unless your broads giving us brains | |
| Nigga you ain' t servin us | |
| Deacon and Kno, cunning lynguists with stunning English | |
| Our true lies bring more pumps than Harry Rehnquist | |
| Every week with the best speech | |
| Roll with cats who smoke more trees than the flash and burn techniques | |
| Sex, beats, between bed sheets | |
| Red fleets, Pulp Fiction style | |
| leaving your car with red seats | |
| We make like fly swatters and smash pests | |
| Put peeps under more pressure than a Kelly Price bed set | |
| Keep your bodies looking like samples for the Rorscach Test | |
| Ink blots, so fuck around and get your team rocked | |
| Jugga' s in the back with the beam cocked | |
| Gots to have everything between L. A. and Queens locked | |
| Uh huh, word, uh huh word, yo yo, check it out | |
| Cunninlynguists, know what I' m saying? | |
| You know how we do | |
| I mean, you probably don' t know how we do | |
| But you' re about to find out. | |
| Like what? like what?... | |
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