Текст песни Bring The Pain - New Wave - Mindless Self Indulgence

Lemme tell you now
I came to bring the pain
Hardcore from the brain
Let′s go inside my astral plane

Find out my mental based on instrumental
Records, hey, so I can write monumental
Methods, I'm not the king, but niggaz is decaf
I stick ′em for the cream
Check it

Just how deep can shit get
Get deeper than your fists
And brothers is mad pissed
Accept it

In your cross color
Clothes are crossed over
And now ya totally crossed out (Kriss kross)
Who da boss
Niggaz get tossed to da side
And I'm the dark side of the force
Of course

It's the method man from the Wu-tang clan
I be hectic and comin′ for that headpiece
Protect it

Fuck it
Two tears in a bucket
You niggaz want the ruckas
So bust it at me son
Now bust it

Stylez, I get buck wild
Method man on some shit
Fuckin′ niggaz foul, son, I'm sick

Insane crazy
Drivin′ Miss Daisy
How the fuck am I
Now I got mine, I'm swayzee

Is it real son
Lemme know it′s real son
If it's really real son
Lemme know it′s real

Load it up and kill one
Load it up and kill one
Load it up and kill one
If it's really real

When I was a little stereo
I used to be the champion
Ooh-hoo-hoo
I always wonder
When I will be the number one
Hey hey hey

And now you listen to me, darcon
Darcon

And all you niggaz come and test me
Test me
I'm gonna lick out your brains

Brothers wanna hang with the meth, bring the rope
′Cause the only way you hang is by the neck
Nigga, bump off a set

Comin′ through all your projects
Take it as a threat or better yet, it is a promise
Comin' like a vet on some old Vietnam shit
You can bet your bottom dollar that I′m on it

And it'll get
Even worse
Word to god
It′s the Wu
Comin' through
Takin′ niggaz 'fore they're
Gone gone gone gone gone gone

Movin′ to your left
I came to represent and carve my name within your chest
You can come test
Realize it′s no contest, son
I'm the gun who won that old wild west

Quick on the draw with my hands on the floor
Lovin′ all those goddamn monkey rhymes galore

Check it 'cause I think not when it′s hip hop like proper
Rhymes be the proof when I'm drinkin′ ninety proof vodka
No OJ
No, no straw
When you give it to me, yeah
Give it to me raw, I
Burn
Give it to me raw, I
Burn

Chest hair

I don't need no chemical blow to pull no ho, no
All I need is chemical bank to pay her up

Is it real son
Lemme know it's real son
If it′s really real son
Lemme know it′s one, two, three, four

Kill one
Fuck it up and kill one
Fuck it up and kill one
Let me know it's real