exibições de letras 82
Letra

    Mmm

    Confirmation of your worst fears
    Ever since his first years, had a thirst for beers
    Back from the future, it'll make you more sober-er
    And brought back a long list of fakers who crossed over
    I'm like, fuck it, bubble-baller
    Catch 'em up at Bob's show, stall him with a troubled caller
    Bastard, who could make G's faster
    Than a newly remastered while bein' truly plastered
    There's four sides to every story
    If these walls could talk, they'd probably still ignore me
    Contemplate war over a cup of warm coffee
    It's really gettin' gory, tell your problem to Maury
    Don't bore V with the glory, hallelu-ey
    Crews be like, Phooey, it's all a buncha hooey
    I knew he had new G, who he? Viktor Vaughn
    He had a new sicker song, I think he call it lickupon
    Umm, but, uh

    He study rhymes and patter-ins
    Climb so steep, sometimes the beat don't be matterin'
    Sounded like a half-dead from Scurvy band rock
    A programmed, computer bio-grafted Herbie Hancock
    Maybe next life, he'll try harder
    Died a martyr at the hands of the fire-starter
    More scripts ripped available for via barter
    Transport the stack to the lab via charter
    On the microphone, he came to daze and amaze ya
    What a guy, practices bangin' flies with razors
    And watch out for the robot, he got eyes with lasers
    Tell 'em when they come with more topics besides blazers
    Enough with the guns already, they all toys and lames
    The joy's in the aim, he asked him, how's ya' poison game?
    Do you bust your crossbow?

    Also, more so, accurate body blows to torso, thought so
    These flows you won't find in no 'how-to'
    If the blacksmith doubt you, he smack the shit out you!
    Make nuttin' gone, let nuttin' twitch
    Just don't be near the mic when the on-button switch
    V bring the beef like a trucker to Fuddrucker
    Delivery to all y'all motherfuckers and bloodsucker
    Coppin' more pleas than when a rap nigga bicker on
    And that's my word is bond, I think he call it lickupon
    Umm, he wrote this one with a fever, sick in bed
    With his dickhead inside a chickenhead
    No, a dead chicken's head, he said it help his nausea
    If he lost ya, wait till he tell you about the flyin' saucer
    Dag! The kickback'll leave your wig ragged
    For a big bag of good grizzle and some Zig-Zag
    Survival, keep a rival in denial
    And bust what he get just for comin' out his pie-hole
    Die calmer than a suicide-bomber
    V just the type to do a hoo-ride with Momma
    Said to James Bond, my name is Viktor, Viktor Vaughn
    Told a chick the quickest way to get on, lickupon




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