Heath McNease - 99 Problems (Shootin Bricks Ain't One) lyrics

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Heath McNease - 99 Problems (Shootin Bricks Ain't One) lyrics

[Hook] Problems with your jumper, I feel bad for you son I got 99 problems shooting bricks ain't one [Verse 1] I'm the ba*tard son of Slick Rick Rubin Of Mike D, Ad-Rock, and Adam Yauch And you's a fake rap cheeseball corn-rower I rap in fisheye lens like Mr. Hornblower See them lederhosen on? Well later hoes I'm gone Darth Vader cross fader choking pawns Better skip the battle homie, fake a broken arm Cause this an open mic night, later open bar Bars and humor, punchlines and levity Most feared combo since Rakim and Eric B Generic parodies, proletariat wage earners Catching perilous lariats from a page turner And it feels like a Steiner-line Get that spine aligned by the time a piledriver rhyme arrives The overarching theme of poet laureates To keep a focused parchment with a theme for social consciousness And I ain't here to speak on global arguments Or wire jaws shut over stolen beats from parliament It's Funakadelic or impeach the president Honeydrippers, drum breaks, MPs, and h**n It's a head scratcher You win the bet after the best rapper pimp slapped you Right out of your LensCrafters That's for talking out the side of your mouth Speech slurred, plus your four eyes divided by half Alive mathematics make the circle complete And a real MC never rehearses his frees It's nursery themes and cursory streams Certainly seem to be the mantra for your workers retreat And I can sorta hear a bar by Soren Kierkegaard If you label then you're negating what you really are And what I really am, and what I really am Is a disciple of MF Doom and Dill Es Plans Got problems? I don't feel bad for you 99 problems and all of them are your attitude It's that entitlement you roll with I can't decide if it's your fault or the environment you're grown in But it's my hustle over everything You put your money over everything you'll struggle over anything And if it's fool's gold call it that With all this Boardwalk posturing, you're starting on Baltic Ave [Hook] [Verse 2] I know your type Crying when Nas performs One Mic The type to try to bring your metaphors to gun fights And the type to bring a pistol to a rap battle Like Free World vs. B. Rabbit, the last chapter You better corner Cheddar Bob to salvage you some better bars Howard Zinn says how it's used indebts it all Enlisted everyone, reps up in the Pentagon And beg the rest affects their credit cards for telethons Unforgiven world, and I don't fear the reaper Bang on cowbell like Will Ferrell fill my sneakers With a beatdown that's sponsored by Ajax Fake Roland 808 kick tone with ba** blast That's when I put an end to this Just enter your pen with this Small market franchise won't win with this New sponsors, new images And brand new tax incentives for mad citizens max denizen Sponsor PSAs beware of the Sandersons I'm on Miami, man and Paul Thomas Anderson And if an Old Testament plague hits my windshield Y'all can all just watch me windmill [Hook]

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