Mr. Eon - Eastern Conference All Stars lyrics

Yeah, uh, Yeah, uh (Formaldyhide salmons) Northface gooses, South Orange Avenue producers Eastcoast is the loosest (Yeah) West district is ruthless (Boom Squad n**-uh!) We leave you toothless (P-P-P) Eastern Conference All-Stars, ah Ghetto Stars (Like this) [Tame 1] The hip-hop Anthony Perkins, constantly merkin For certain, excuse me - y'all say for sheez-ay Dogs like me be like "We want Eazy!" Tame 1 be talkin greasy, this became a D-Day Burnin more rent lines than eight major freeways My motto is 'f** you, don't follow' Skirts who won't swallow, or get stunk tomorrow Oh well, I still can't tell, you actin beat b**h Beat it, no secret, I'll merk you half weeded My bars are like Zanex's Broke it down to fours, they bring down yours Encyclopedia Brown, kick it in punk! [Copywrite] In this most aggressive artform, none of you ba*tards want it Cause I don't paint on a canvas, I slam rappers on it Laughin at clowns with they demos, pa**in 'em out Pa** it to me, get it tossed to the trash with a smile Bad Boy, with a long barrel that's all narrow Shyne behind bars like Jamal Barrow You got a cast-iron stomach? Let's see how strong it is when I co*k this and blast iron from it You flow sick, but too slow spitting your coldest I'll come up with a cure before any symptoms are noticed You trying to sh** on me - it's a dream I got a way/weigh with words like alphabet soup on a triple beam [J-Zone] You want a free verse, your label was a joke from the start You want a free beat, then put a stethoscope to your heart You want free dick, then baby go back to your ex You want free advice chump, shave the back of your neck I use threats over money so deejays won't play my jams Internet B-Boy's wanna know what race I am Black, white, or Spanish, you figure it out Learn how to rhyme offline and take the dick out your mouth It's 'bout to get ill in here, so stop staring b**h Old Maid Billionaire, Christina Aguilera's pimp UPS is hiring so close the trap Cause my old gym teacher ain't supposed to rap [Cage] I went to my grandmother's funeral, f**ed up in a rush Stood over that b**h, smelled embalming fluid fiendin for dust My baby's mama taught my daughter to ask for paper Told her Disney World blew up, so I ain't had to take her My engineer's a dominatrix trying to master me My out of body experiences got dead cops after me How my anti-pop records get played on TV? The explanation's the same as why you hate on E.C So don't be alarmed when you see me and my soundman Holding a firearm, stomping some b**hes for a skit I'm on If my ex tries to come to the show to dumb out I'll make the crowd beat the f** out of her 'fore I come out [Mr. Eon] It's Julius Err-ving, with wordsling Mics inverting, f** all you stupid earthlings Y'all couldn't shed light, if y'all were the sun Wipe the cum off her head and take a load off her mind One top could never invade my paradigm See propaganda pamphlets through the asinine Trounce with mic-stands, jump over techniques My soul got caught up in mom's ovaries No angel on my shoulder just two devils Feeding chemicals, pushing blood past legal levels It's the accomplice who's too obnoxious To accomplish, leaving you rookie f**s astonished [Sk**z] Yo it's the G-H the O the S-T Writer Conversing with me, sh** that's like talking to fire If you touch it it burns, and y'all don't wanna do that You could talk to it all day and it won't talk back I still battle n***as so scrap ya plans I ain't gotta be in promotions to rap ya van Cats 2-way me all day to deliver a hit But I ain't writing sh** down 'til they deliver some chips If B.I.G. was here, he'd say I was "Dead Wrong" Cause I don't get on the radio and say verses that I said in a song It's Mad Sk**z muhf**er the V.A. don E.C. emcee, AKA Shaquan [Camu Tao] All my n***as buggin out, wasted on d** Talk sh** n***a, thug it out, ya waitin on guns Cuz I'm a dirty n***a that likes the guts cut up And put my hands in the heat until my fingers burn up And pick my teeth with the remains when the bodies turn up I'll stay rotten, stay plottin on ya b**h and her c*nt AIDS victim, stickin my bloody dick in the cup Cuz I'm hotter than the bobbins and sk**ets in ya momma kitchen I'm even hotter than the f**in seat the Devil sits in Cold shoulder n***as get blazed forever And your heat'll never happen like rubbin to wet sticks together You f*gs wanna fight and shoot its whatever...