Tech N9ne - Strangeulation II lyrics

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Tech N9ne - Strangeulation II lyrics

(feat. Stevie Stone, Murs, Brotha Lynch Hung & Godemis) [Verse 1 - Godemis:] Deevil! Prayin' that 12-12 for hell Felon to sell and slept on a bed of nails like nothing I've ever felt Ghost in a shell, was molded with other demons as if I needed some help or a host to preserve the heathen Got it, my brain is rotted I swear to God that I'm not it I'm set to go to the gallow as soon as the rope is knotted I ain't high as the fire and I have unused adrenaline Came in the cypher clean, still smelling like putrid cinnamon Then I'm in, enemy of the state, I'm straight at an angle Stop risking and quit your b**hin', it ain't like I'm raping an Angel Said I was magnifique, ya'll f**in' with it, kapeesh [Verse 2 - Stevie Stone:] Stevie Stone I'm on it I'm so clever Nobody comparing 'em better I put sh** together America's most elaborated rap pick yo head up Small talkin' to get you wet up Yeah, I'm will to k** all you n***as The feelin', adrenaline that'll spillin' a milli yeah I mill' all you n***as Ain't even reach out they climax rather my sillin' on n***as And backin' a back on back can't billy you n***as Get busy on n***as This ain't no random some leekage Stonie in the building the b**hes pull out their cleavage The snake and the bat you see them prominent features The spieces Strangeland we rain on your region Meatwagon I come I be taggin' 'em Baggin' 'em bring 'em clusters of three Got three magnums gaggin' em out You pussies is still talkin' I'm draggin' 'em out I'm tappin' 'em out [Verse 3 - Murs:] Aww sh**, they f**ed around and signed a backpacker Smart, rich, handsome, plus he's not a bad rapper I'm just a little local talent that f**ed around and made it big Underground bully, pickin' on all these famous kids And the danger is, Now I'm doin' Strange a biz? About to make the world forget about what a major is Independent Powerhouse, running all these cowards out My enemies are all forgotten, wishin' I would shout em out And I don't want to hear a rapper harmonize unless He thuggish, ruggish, Lazy, Krayzie, Bizzy, Wish or Flesh But maybe I'm just hatin' cuz my black a** could never sing f** that autotune I hope the Futures filled with better things And you a f**ing liar if you say you found a better team Impossible! Like trying to fit my dick inside my wedding ring And all the bread it brings will be distributed and properly I represent for hip hop not some f**ing aristocracy [Verse 4 - Brotha Lynch Hung:] I'm the Martin Scorsese of rap, rap predator Better than severin' the reverend with a jackknife Kevin and eleven of 'em revvin' up the engines we bubblin' up like 7-Up Then when we shoot that sh** we eat that sh** for din--din-ner I don't need no f**in' "Ok", are you serious, I'm okay I'mma make you bleed like it's your period, period I eat period p**y so eating you ain't serious What you need for me to flip that sh** and rip that sh** Like a skitzo stick that sh**, that sh** like a automatic pistol grip No, I created this fast rap, I'm past that I put a gat in that a**crack and blast that I'm lightyears ahead of 'em, might use the head of 'em I lose, then you can keep the breadcrumb My n***a I'm a carnivore, ready for any kind of war, any kind of score

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