Текст песни Raw Deal - Outerspace
*Girl
whining
on
telephone*
(Chorus
- Planetary)
Be
careful
who
you
talk
to
The
places
that
you
walk
through
You
never
know
when
somebody
is
creepin',
tryin'
to
hawk
you
Better
grab
your
gat
too
'Cause
niggaz
will
attack
you
And
blast
you,
right
behind
your
back
'Cause
the
cash
rules
(Crypt
the
Warchild
and
Planetary)
Yo
Industry
rule
number
four
thousand
and
eighty:
Record
execs
are
made
shady
for
gravy
Protecting
your
neck
can
save
you
and
save
me
We
step
on
the
set,
like
fuck
you,
pay
me
Give
'em
a
chance,
and
they'll
take
food
from
your
babies
And
stress
you
out,
to
drive
a
grown
nigga
crazy
Now
ain't
that
crazy?
You
ain't
kiddin',
man
They
run
for
cover
when
the
shit
really
hit
the
fan
The
snakes
in
the
garden,
pray
on
your
downfall
Abondon
shit,
it's
hazardous,
and
they
can
drown
y'all
Exploit
your
people
with
a
image,
they
can
clown
y'all
The
voice
of
evil
in
your
ear,
you
hear
the
sound,
y'all
(Chorus)
(Planetary)
Yo
Ain't
nothin'
worse
than
a
sheisty
bitch
She'll
take
cream
in
your
credit,
the
ice
and
the
whip
Your
life
and
your
kids,
you're
flippin'
your
lid
Kicked
out
the
crib
A
baby
on
the
way,
you
don't
know
who's
it
is
It
might
be
yours,
life
on
pause,
nights
on
tour
You
try
to
call
the
bitch,
but
she
yappin'
the
jaw
You
feel
like
smackin'
the
whore
She
contacted
the
law
Like
you
never
smacked
her
before
Why
she
actin'
all
raw?
*Talking*
(Planetary)
Yo
Just
to
clarify,
I'm
Planetary,
I
terrify
Prepare
to
die,
dawg,
but
never
try
I
am
the
next
millenium
rapper
Got
you
trembelin'
after
the
shots
blown
from
the
stage
Every
sentence
I
master,
nigga
Toxeeded,
Philly
to
Chi-Town
town
even
panics
at
the
ground
bleeding
When
they
hear
the
sound
of
demons
I'm
fiending
this
seed
of
blood
dripping
from
heathens
The
reason
underground
and
mainstream
had
a
meetin'
I'm
lookin
for
liquor
to
drink
away
the
pain
But
when
the
store
close
I
cut
my
wrist
and
drink
it
from
the
veins
That's
in
me,
Crypt,
you
you
feel
me?
A
basket
case,
we
take
souls
from
their
bodies,
a
blast
of?
plates?
On
fire
for
real,
and
I
retire
my
deal
It
don't
matter,
I
still
got
wounds
and
I'm
too
tired
to
heal
Every
rhyme
is
for
real,
and
I'ma
break
these
adams
I've
been
spittin'
since
ninety
one,
you
can't
erase
this
passion
(Crypt
the
Warchild)
Yo
I
see
this
niggaz,
think
they
big
and
they
bad
Whylin'
out
in
the
club
and?
duck?
pissin'
in
bags
And
I
ain't
even
got
to
use
a
clip
or
a
mag
I
use
a
twelve
inch
blade
to
split
shit
when
I'm
mad
Let
you
rot
six
days,
'til
the
stinkin'
is
bad
Let
my
pen
print
rage
when
it
sinks
in
the
pad,
homie
So
get
it
right,
I'm
a
murder
machine
Stampeded
through
the
wilderness
to
murder
your
team
Cats
bleedin'
like
I
slit
they
wrist,
burstin'
their
dreams
Guaranteeing
you'll
be
feelin'
this,
superb
when
I
glean
I
spit
fire,
homocidal,
and
there's
no
reasoning
Get
drunk,
bury
the
needle,
killing
season
is
in
Headhunt,
buryin'
people
in
this
steep
full
of
sin
I'm
leatherface
with
a
chainsaw,
splittin'
your
chin
So
don't
approach
me
with
no
lame
talk,
as
simple
as
grim
Unless
you
like
to
see
your
frame
choke
again
and
again,
nigga
(Somebody
talking)
Now
that's
what
I'm
talkin'
about,
man
Murder
these
motherfuckas,
dawg
We
outta
this
bitch,
man,
meet
me
at
the
motherfuckin'
bar
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