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zuò cí : Brown, Criss, Gist ... |
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Yo bitch, it was some bitch in a seminar |
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Talkin' ' bout you, had to get up early to wax this Strike a nerve |
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Them other motherfuckers said, you couldn' t even wax that dirty bitch |
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So wassup y' all? Strike a nerve |
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I get my daily dose of chachacha and " Shut the fuck up, ho" |
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Shit, shaved and bathed a day, then |
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I must goUgh, this is Everyday All Day, let' s all say |
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Pluckin' enough and roughin' ' em up and fuckin' ' em up always |
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Bet, let' s talk about a back flash, ya jackass |
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That fast you flash witta match, your fast rap |
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And even though you didn' t know me before the flow solo |
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It' s no slow way to go, bolos |
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I throw or sold Let' s pick a bitch to pick with peekaboo |
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I see you through your crew, now whatchu wanna do? |
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After that, caps off to the black frost |
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My pants always sag ' cause |
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I rap my ass off You wanna talk about a badboy ' |
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Sanchoi' I' m bad as they come, chum, and nasty like |
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To Vin Rock and KayGee, I' m the baby |
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Droppin' the ladies, cravin' ya maybe, |
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I have the right to be lazy |
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Got more stretch to my swing and the stretch of a chicken wing |
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The flavor is bacon and it' s cravin', is ice cream |
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I' m too trucked to be fucked and too live, otherwise |
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Ya drive by' s smuffler, word to the mother, my brother eyed |
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Runnin' and comin', drama starin' wit a stellar |
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I need so many lumps, I' ll use your head as a braille book |
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Many friends ships ink, quick, fast |
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It' ll take a dollar worth of gas to outlast your little tired ass |
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You tried to swing this way, you little swifty |
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Ha, ha, ha, slum bitches still miss me |
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I do the dumpin', humpin', clappin' like thunder |
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And that' s comin' from a land down under |
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Yo, I' m sick of dis shit, man |
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Niggas tryin' to cut, they rocks none Strike a nerve |
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Yo, they tryin' to make us drop |
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Vin Rock sayin' he don' t rock enough Yo, kick that shit |
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Prepare for the worst ' cause |
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I ain' t livin' lose |
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I wouldn' t just give a fuck ' cause givin' is free and my fuck' s cost your loss in |
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The Source ' cause I know no way |
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I been there before, maybe 56 times a day |
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Sometimes I put my hands on my head when |
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I' m done, from |
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And wondered to myself where did dat def shit come from? |
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And then I think about the |
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Naughty and the Nature in it And then the |
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Flavor, then the figures, while |
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I' m flowin' wit it |
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So I won' t give up, stop, stall, quit, ya kitten |
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You can' t touch this, fuck what them throats written |
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I got tracks, better known as snaps, far forbidden |
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And the warm do, |
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I know, I know how to make ya feel it |
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I' ll take a head, |
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I' ll make ya spread and now lay back |
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I tell you once, I tell you twice, Vinnie don' t play that |
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So don' t start, there will be none is the lesson, folks |
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I hate cigarettes but my SmithNWessun smokes |
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From anywhere, from any corner, anytime that' s right |
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Who you bashin'? I go blast in broad daylight |
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You stand hard, you look hard, yeah, your figure' s soft |
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I got nuff props from buckshots that niggas caught |
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Ya say you can' t go to the takin' me out close |
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Huh, in that case, you shoulda named your album ' |
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Almost' I wouldn' t rely on the try if |
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I was you, yo' Cause I' m turnin' tries into ' |
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Oh, oh' s' and ' Hell no' s' |
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I wouldn' t be caught dead witchu up in tryin' it |
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And if I was goin', |
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I get my stiff ass up and rip shit |
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I can' t go out like a wooden sock with padlocks |
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I' ll leave tacks tiny and slimy like snot spots |
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I write a day, to me it' s a common caper |
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Say so much shit, huh, |
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I write my rhymes on toilet paper Yeah, Vin |
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Rock, backbone of Naughty By Nature, y' know |
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I' msayin'? Strike a nerve |
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That' s right, so everybody sleepin' on the up, stay off of my dick Strike a nerve |
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We' re gonna stomp this time around, word up Strike a nerve |
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Look who' s mother' s in the studio, thirty sons and daughters |
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Mrs. Happy Thing is in the back, catchin' quarters |
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Come and try to run wit it, never in a lifetime |
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Thirty could act at Caesar' s, still |
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I bet I get mine |
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I heard your girl' s havin' a baby, now will what she have? |
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A bag of dope, a bottle or crack or a sess bag |
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There ain' t a part of me with ' |
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Sorry' written on it, slick |
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You couldn' t rock a crooked cradle, you fuckin' prick |
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The way I rock could shit, you just often like it |
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My style' s so fat, |
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I had to throw it on a water diet |
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Bullshit, ya not, |
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I ain' t the type to be fuckin' with |
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Wreckin' with and if |
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I mic attest it, I' ll be neckin' it |
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Onslaught at an encore, you stinkin' rat |
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You' re so dumb, you tried to buy a fuckin' thinkin' cap |
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Now that tells us in a sec, right where your head is at |
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In between some bitch' s legs, lookin' ass and lap |
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My name is Treach, remember this and don' t you ever ' fess |
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That' s a shame, |
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I get two minutes just to say, " Next" |
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Fuck, who follows you, you and them could help each other |
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I treat you both like any other motherfuckin' runner |
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This is the Flavor, tasty although sugarfree |
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So have a Coke, have a smile and have a booger, |
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GWhy? ' Cause you don' t mean shit to me |
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I' ma take you where good shit' s meant to be |
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I rock a rhyme that' ll be a straight up def track |
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Droppin' more shit than white castles and neck slacks |
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A studio to me is just a chance to rock, |
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GI rock and rock, goddamn, call me |
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VinRockyIt' s just what the fuck |
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I' m talkin' ' bout |
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I say one thing and your whole crew' s walkin' out |
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So do the lyric here, this is one lyric less |
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If I were you, |
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I' d take and throw ' em on his fuckin' neck |
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Something that flow should come straight from the horse' s mouth |
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Mr. Ed' s dead, so his ass is the best way out |
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Shit, man for hire, this hitman is the law |
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I run more tracks than a |
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San Francisco trolley car |
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Prepare for the winter, oh, yeah |
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I could write your fuckin' album and you' ll soon be the last one there |
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I start to heat up and rip shit in one, see |
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You couldn' t get it hard, if the eyes were on |
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Broad Street |
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So don' t you ever never tell me, |
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I' m not good enough |
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I got more stuff than a teddy bear, from ass to gut |
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This is a solid, you could never outlast |
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If bullshit was worth a dime, you' d have a job in a cow' s ass |