The Cenobites - You're Late lyrics

Yeah, what's up with all you stupid motherf*ckers out there Giving me that jive vibe and that jam jam, huh Don't come back with gra** between your a** Cause I'm out here to last and move on forward past That's right, I gets deep up in that rectum and I checks them I got a problem, n***as is wack and they cold fronts Suburban areas, born and raised with no blunts Never had a gun, one to pump in a shootout Always went to church with mom and wore a suit out Who doubt, can it be hard faking these gods Yo Don, the kid down the block, he's writing your style Kicking your style, flaunting your style, jocking your style Did you see him at the Apollo and Following, swallowing s**m and Then throw up, blow up, then pick a ho up I never need to s** a dick for a deal I never need a car to pull a fly b**h I leave you standing like an S1-W Cold and freezing with your a**hole standing Coughing, sneezing, begging, pleasing MC's smell like fish, that's a reason Oh you cut your hair bald? Hey yeah yeah yeah yeah A lot of humane with rap sk**s Now you're selling your a**hole dreams on Hollywood Hills Like a shark would bite, s** my deals with gills Cause you're no frills, taking feminine pills reel to reel My co*k you feel, f*ck that sh** Your girl is wet as a seal You can't front man, act like a stunt man Fool of the girls, cause your lover is one man I know the girls and the girls that lick girls But it's hard to breathe with your bullsh** gheri curls Don't try to step to the X with that ill sh** I'm not P.M. Dawn, crazy man with real sh** Don't try to play me cause you gotta do shows, hoes Wipe that sh** out your nose In '88 it was all about an ill flow Lyrcial goodies, not a hoodie and a steel toe Talking bout you wrecking parties, stretching hotties Catching bodies, then let me see you step to Gotti I stunned you with sk**s, megatons of it F*ck the guns and sh**, I'll beat anyone you get I cut you off like a sharp machete blade Swear to God, the only card you be pulling is Medicaid Joke to me, broke MC with a gold head Wrecking, checking say better rhymes on my own sh** I got a deal corruption and come up with But n***as like you just s** dick Like cattle, punk rappers I rounds up Yo chief, I turns your f*cking beef into ground chuck You're pulling b**hes? Nope, not on my block n***a, the only hoes you can get is from my Glock Boom boom boom boom Yo Don, punch the f*ck in, you're late Body bag 'em, I stang 'em with lyrical dimes be hangin up n***as that figure we're the triggers with fake triggers Never underestimate what the best will take Of the rest state of MC's make them bless the great Of some more top minds, align refine To the exaggerated potency of a Glock nine I rock mine with tope rhymes in a lot time To weaker brothers, and others who debate I got mine I rock on beat off beat, toss meat Where's that sk**, punk? You lost me Rehearse first curse cause we heard church worse And facilitate rehabilitate the message purposes Blood spatter, I'm mad as a mad hatter Rappers stagger badder rappers at a distance for instance Rappers get deals after kicking nil I'm checking sk** after that's a drill technical bill Hearse blood on my first drug so leave nubs for hands My Tims land like Van Damme to Sam Man that's packing dust, the dust with a lush to bust Because of us you want to get back into lyrcial thrust But the mic you hold is overthrown Or should I spit out of my lung on my tounge I brought a Trojan Now I'm a disperse the verse and piece the purse And keep the Earth decrease when I drop a piece