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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
Song: | Supa Sexy |
Album: | One Man | Genres: | R&B |
Year: | | Length: | 261 sec |
Lyrics:
(repeating in background: 'rock, the body body -- rock the body body')
[U-God] Dino the dart specialist Knahmean? Golden Arms, yo Meth-Tical, John John do your thing thing What? Check it
The all eye seein, heavenly divine The truth brings out, the temper in my spine A Hill sound again, feelin symptoms that bit me I feel for you victims, with everything up in me (uh-huh) A head ringa, stuffed in sidewalls of frenzy Back the fuck up, cause I'm stimmi off the Remi A semi bloodshot eye, donkey dick of nuts Every cut, I split and try and felt the guts (what?) Nigga what, earthquakin speech, woofer hissin The razor faced victims, WHEW, that's what kissed em Appropriate precaution, surroundin, certain it curtains I'm dumbfounded, I'm poundin, the pavement For mental enslavement, I'm cravin, a misbehavin savior America the grave for gun wavers (what?) The wave runners, what the blood seed again Make you wonder, about the thunder underneath the skin (hmm) The sapphire rhymes slap fire out your minds With right timin, bite with vampire rhymes
[Method Man] Hmm, eye spy, with my crooked eye Full metal street soldiers, born to die Put em up yeah fuck yeah, when it's Hammertime Niggas can't be touched here, the true and livin Night vision unseen, like Jean When I hack men The Unforgiven, left in prison In the Wu-Tang dirty dungeon, now you succumbin To my twelve part dirty dozens, flabbergasted By tracks that be Tru Mastered, opposites attract Beef plus they ass backwards, stick yourself Til I'm felt, this ass whoopin, is bein dealt Like hot beans-and-butter nigga, I got the belt What the deal huh? Swing low, sweet chariot I walk the Underground Railroad, with Harriett Just a slave to the rhythm - victims I'm like alien About to put that shit up in em, I Can't Live Without My Radio, a 100 Miles and Runnin T2 Judgment comin, nobody's safe When I reminisce about Case, still hit the staircase When the coppers give chase, I give em finger The only hip-hop singer, to tell America To kiss his Killer Bee stinger, nothin can save ya From this major misbehavior, heavy hands Layin corners in the elevator, guard your grill
[Cappadonna] I speculate, get my darts straight, don't exaggerate Dictate, do it with the Papermate, set the plate Set the bait, checkmate, fuckin with cha mental state Double take, meditate, earthquake, VGL contemplate Big boys integrate; catch you at the sess skate Army tank, high rank, got the bank Got the shank talk the talk walk the walk from New York To Up North to downstate to L.A., to all day To cliches to instant replays, to all the DJ's To BJ's in the PJ's, equality days With money like legs I plant eggs, Pele roundhead The dog bred, snakes runnin from red, catch dead Raekwon is on, take your uniform, we perform Shit like gangs in Now Born, check for new Don Fuck a Yukon, you been warned, we the realest We never were conned, duffed out and knowledge born
('Rock, the body body - rock the body body') - repeat til fade
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