Ultra (US) - Super Luv lyrics

(Tamika Jones) "Yo, what's up I'm Tamika Jones from 'Keep it Real' Magazine, and I'm about to enter the minds of two of the most controversial rappers of one of the most underrated rap groups of all time, the Ultramagnetic MC's. First, Kool Keith, why in your songs do you always refer to the words an*l and rectum? And why do you always use the words doo-doo and pee-pee?" (Kool Keith) "Because that's what the whole f**ing rap industry is. Besides, I have other words like gorilla, parakeet, giraffe,and also.....monkey" Your crew got high blood pressure, you still bite on pork chops As I strike in your area, shut down close your shops Your style is greasy, so what your hair is nappy peasy I wet your brain and tie your penis to the two train Drag you down the tracks, spray paint like artifacts With the rest of your crew, tied and smeared with dog doo-doo You know my trash bags are packed, lick my nut sacs Emcees are still wack, on the new smell like mildew When you rhyme the mic steps from the socket and You could never be cla**ic, your rappin sk**'s plastic Gimmicks is your plan, strategy is stop your marketing All that hard and mean look I'll get your a** kicked Your steelo's undercover, corny on the real brother Pistol whupped like a b**h, get smacked by your pimp Keep that mop down, just like your album sound So save that cartoon sh** for Saturday Everything is booty You flop, no n***as bound to make my head bop Don't f** with me Between your legs you sport a cootie (Tamika Jones) explain this to me?" "Holy an*l catastrophe Kool Keith, that's f**ing amazing! But I think your fans will want to know how you'll accomplish this. Can you (Kool Keith) With the A1 6600 phone detector Y'all can't tap my sh**, eavesdropping in the projects Missiles dropped, your narrow hard times stories flop Hush town, your staircase becomes a mental town I'll throw grenades and blow your rectum out your f**ing block Your elevator stopped, your bubblegum sitting below Cover your peephole, wires reach bombs in your window I thought so, your verbal sh** wasn't f**ing pro Go flush your toilet, crack the bowl, see the f**ing bomb Iranian arab with m**m bells on my face Three seconds flat your f**ing chest splatters in your palm Skeleton bones, I stash bazookas in the chicken place Uptown bronx with cheese traps for you f**ing mouse My helmet's from haiti, infrared's at my house Federal tax bullsh** I light your real estate s** my nuts with dual tube night vision goggles Raw in to stop (?), your a**hole's tied to a milk crate Biological agents blew Waco Texas Dynamite's packed in trunks, alarms on your Lexus s** my dick for real, my 44 mag is steel I'll catch you out there, your crew'll have grey hair (singing) "Super luv, super luv, baby, super luv, superman, superman luv, lois lane, superman luv, superman