Yeah mother****er.. that's right..
The mother****er in the house.. kool keith..
**** all the bullshit, let's get to the real shit..
Yeah..
Your rhyme touch is soft kid
Like a stripper's ass with a touch of plastic
Writin with a local style
Talkin about competitive shit you never mastered
Youse a wannabe thug nigga, you ain't bugged nigga
I cut your bitch-ass up, leave your legs under the rug nigga
Who want the whiplash?
Cigarette burns, broken face hair pinned up in a cast
Me standin on the top of your tour bus
Butt-naked with a ****in hockey mask
Slicin your cashmere with a sharp 7-up glass
Don't you know i'm sick nigga?　lick my dick nigga!
Forty-four caliber killer gun-toter
Hide your kneecaps in a lexus motor
Pack your stomach in a compartment
Old dingy ****ed up bronx apartment
Don't piss me off with a tec-9 loaded in a bullshit street argument
I don't care how hard you get
You just another man that never lived in the projects poppin shit
You ain't stoppin shit, **** that batman and robin shit
And what block you with
Kneel down, make a nigga like you call me big ernest
Bake your intestines, throw your stomach in the furnace
Watch the thermostat, you ain't no ****in fat cat
Chorus: kool keith
[sung] you never lived in the projects!
You ain't no drug dealer
*repeat chorus 3x*
[kool keith]
Rude bwoy with a temper like a jamaican off a haitian boat
Carribean ruckus - with an elvis wig
Slap the piss out of one of you untalented rap mother****ers
Bodyguards won't work
With a 30-shot car bomb under my dominican shirt
Submachine in the duffle bag
Watchin sesame street with my daughter, peepin ernie and bert
With backstage passes, wearin a long trenchcoat
Get morris in your projects
And jackson in a madison square garden concert
Ready for cbs and nbc, to do a big network
The average guy, havin a product manager
And a female publicist wearin a ****in bulletproof vest
I got time for mother****ers actin like elliot ness
Winchester sawed off blow your rolex through your ****in chest
Splatted body pieces while blood drips off your girl's dress
I'm ready for more progress
Have your head sent home
And a piece of your leg sittin on the record company desk
Extort like a mad nigga western union
You don't have a clue men how i get through men
*repeat chorus 4x*