paroles de chanson First Words Worse (feat. El-P) - C-Rayz Walz feat. EL-P

The truth is y'all haters had to lie to do it
I am loose like a loop is with a loop chick grindin' to it
Old school like colt 45, lunch lines and pumas
You heard I blaze hoop? I denied the rumors
Your mic don't sound nice, you shouldn't even check 1, 2
I disrespect who come through, my intellect is kung-fu
In the midst of the women, that miss the man
The new millennium bush baby, with a mystic plan
Digi download, sound scan exam, top ten choice
You wanna speak out? My label keeps getting my invoice
If I sound sarcastic, I meant to do it
Wack emcee's breath stink, you need a mint

Revenge of the first
Rap, hip-hop, underground, mainstream
Stop lick a shot, pop, hit the charts
Aim for the top, and still get down when we drop
X2

I got different flows for different shows
They don't know the half, I am different on a ho
I use a knife to cut clad, but if the fights not ending
These old school slugs can get ya life suspended
Your not safe with the ninjas hatred agenda
Fix ya shape up (go head), put your face in a blender
There's no such thing as friendly contradiction
My competition loses consciousness of composition
While I am on the toilet with an L
My shit is smokin', I got grown folks laughin'
They think the kids jokin'
But I won't dumb it down, to double my dollars
I'd rather piss on your lawn, then leave a puddle in my boxers
Get knocked out before round ones begun
Just for gettin' smart with me, and you sound dumb
Melon head coward motherfuck your honeydew crew that's lookin'
No need to fight you fool, my cough is woopin'

Revenge of the words
Rap, hip-hop, underground, mainstream
Stop lick a shot, pop, hit the charts
Aim for the top, and still get down when we drop
X2

When I rap you hear spaceships, martians, lasers, targets
I face fuck ya bitch squad, lace anal compartments
Comic books, bibles, bar-codes, orphans
This little tarana go spit livin' distorted
This wanna live in the clearing of sins fortress
Brooklynites babble on, crass, blast portraits
Meanwhile back in the box cutter for tongue talk micro
Cause I am awesome plus dumb bop
Young cop rookie the pj beat nerve rack tension
City of stress depressed words slap brethren
45 dust dirty dumb shit
Analog function punctured run bitch covered
The cloud of defeat complete hovers
Juxie slow burn, slow mo, flow colors
Rookie no run, just son suck something
El product album of raw saw destruction

Revenge of the words
Rap, hip-hop, underground, mainstream
Stop lick a shot, pop, hit the charts
Aim for the top, and still get down when we drop
X2

And this verse is the soundtrack to sickness
I give it to all y'all who think you can't get it