Текст песни MF DOOM - One Beer

Mm... Food
Жанр: Hip-Hop
Исполнитель: MF DOOM
Альбом: Mm... Food
Длительность: 04:19
Рейтинг: 506
MP3: Скачать
Загрузил: MaxOfMobbDeep


I get no kick from champagne mere alcohol doesn't... thrill me at all so tell me why shouldn't it be true I get a kick outta brew... There's only one beer left rappers screaming all in our ears like we're deaf tempt me, do a number on a label eat up all they emcee's, and drink 'em under the table like...its on me, put it on my tab kid how ever you get there, foot it, cab it, iron horse it you leavin' on your face, forfeit floss the mic, hold it like the heat, he might toss it told em tell them they stole it he told her he lost it she told him get off it, and a buncha other more shit gettin money, DT's be gettin no new leads it's like he eatin watermelon, stay spittin new seeds it's the weed, gimme some of what he droopin off soon as he wake up, chokin like it was whoopin cough they group been soft first hour after open bar and they troopin off he went to go laugh and get some head by the side road she asked him autograph her derrier, read: too wide load this yard bird taste like fried toad turd Love Villain, take pride in code words crooked eye, mold nerd geek with a cold heart probably still be speakin in rhymes as an old fart study how to eat to die by the pizza guy no he's not too fly to skeet... in a skeezer eye and squeeze her thigh, maybe give her curves a feel the same way she feel it when he flow with nerves of steel they call the super when they back...uh, plumbing fix how is only one left? the pack come in 6! what ever happened to 2 and 3? a herb tried to slide with 4 and 5 and got caught like, 'what you doin' G?' don't make him have to get cuttin like truancy matter fact, not for nuttin, right now, you and me looser than a pair of adidas I hope you brought your spare tweeters emcees sound like cheerleaders rappin and dancin like Redhead Kingpin DOOM came to do the thing again, no matter who be blingin he do it for the smelly hubbies seeds know what time it is like its time for telly tubbies few could do it, even fewer could sell it take it from the dude who wear a mask like a tarded helmet he plot shows like robberies in and out, 1-2-3, no bodies please run the cash, and you won't get a wet sweat shirt the mic is the shotty, nobody move, nobody get hurt bring heat like the boy done gon' to war he came in the door, and everybody on the floor a whole string of jobs like we on tour, e'ry night on the score, comin to your corner store
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