I'm a swing it Wach me bring to the next level To grab DeNevel's Getting funky like the devil Brothers from the Bijou So why you wanna trip Just play the side lines Kid, and wait for me to slip Cause I can feel it in the ait tonight But yo I'm not Phil Collins Or, unlike Henry Rollins Cause I'm search and destroy You wanna toy wit the plot Tryin to get what I got You might get- shot Hot damn manna's son Ya got ebonics They teach ya how to write I'm writing like I'm hooked on phonics Mother goose aint got shit on me Cause I'll get loose at the jam And wreck the whole party I make 'em jump and mosh Oh my gosh Just slammin in the pit While I'm kickin my shit They buggin in the isles Cause I got madd styles And aint a damn thing funny I get money in piles Some poeple thought I'd die Thats just a rumour, though Others thought I'd follow up But now I'm numero- Uno, Dos, not Quatro Word to Kool Keith I'm a break up ya teeth
When I die, Bury me (me) Hang my balls on the cherry tree (tree) Let them git ripe Then take a bite And if they don't taste right Then dont blame D
You need to quit swingin, The styles that I'm bringin The Funk knuckled dragon Who gits on the wagon I'm not the 12 stepper Dont play me like a lever My mike sounds nice But it's not salt and pepper
Well it's the man With the plan To get all your skins The tip on my dick Is where the line begins Wit all those former lines Take
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I'm a swing it Wach me bring to the next level To grab DeNevel's Getting funky like the devil Brothers from the Bijou So why you wanna trip Just play the side lines Kid, and wait for me to slip Cause I can feel it in the ait tonight But yo I'm not Phil Collins Or, unlike Henry Rollins Cause I'm search and destroy You wanna toy wit the plot Tryin to get what I got You might get- shot Hot damn manna's son Ya got ebonics They teach ya how to write I'm writing like I'm hooked on phonics Mother goose aint got shit on me Cause I'll get loose at the jam And wreck the whole party I make 'em jump and mosh Oh my gosh Just slammin in the pit While I'm kickin my shit They buggin in the isles Cause I got madd styles And aint a damn thing funny I get money in piles Some poeple thought I'd die Thats just a rumour, though Others thought I'd follow up But now I'm numero- Uno, Dos, not Quatro Word to Kool Keith I'm a break up ya teeth
When I die, Bury me (me) Hang my balls on the cherry tree (tree) Let them git ripe Then take a bite And if they don't taste right Then dont blame D
You need to quit swingin, The styles that I'm bringin The Funk knuckled dragon Who gits on the wagon I'm not the 12 stepper Dont play me like a lever My mike sounds nice But it's not salt and pepper
Well it's the man With the plan To get all your skins The tip on my dick Is where the line begins Wit all those former lines Take
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