Soul Khan - Knuckle Puck - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

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Tekst piosenki
[Intro: Soul Khan] My man J-57 is like two 40's deep right now He made a fly beat So Koncept, show them how its done [Verse 1: Koncept] I see your team is asleep, but sleep is seeming to be Keeps em' reaching for dreams till I defeat em' in speech We be speaking emcees and being free is a need I see a reason preaching like they was teaching to me 2010 run events, nothing less than sold out Moneys spent to run again, tell your friends to go now Updating statuses, upgrade your caliber Hold weight in your own hand no chance to flatter us It's make it and taking it I'm greedy with the whole stash Can't recycle flows, I believe it's what we call trash Hockey puck knuckle punch evacuate the premises Always has to happen drinking Jack in great measurements Slap shots, break glass, should of worn your face mask You skating pacing on the ring, I'm bringing what you lames lack Hmmm, just the face off a stick to your abdomen Have to set the fight the degree that we master in [Break: Soul Khan] I asked my man Homeboy Sandman for some hotness He delivered a supernova Good lord sandman, Kill em' [Verse 1: Homeboy Sandman] Let's go Live from the dead of the winter with no coat and no skully Here's one verse you can take personally Get served, no shoes, no shirt, no money My balls don't break nor burst for nobody My clique nah' trust, conduct our own studies And stick cops up for donuts, go nutty Back before all these condos shot up everywhere So if you got manos put em in the air Thump knock babies from car seats, Haunt Queens Stomp crop circles in concrete, boy done broke outta' quarantine Hopped up off the top turnbuckle on your uncle and auntie Boy king, brassknuckled and undaunting Swashbuckling speech beyond your belief How much more unprofessional can anybody be, now everybody sleep [Break: Soul Khan] My man 8th 1, is passed out on the futon With a pair of panties on his face Wake up! [Verse 3: 8thW1] I don't know man, I'm just not feeling it It's kind of hard for me to take this serious Do you know the power that I'm dealing with When all I do is talk and they're like, "he's killing it?" So I'm winging it like paul mccartney Crash the party with a baby in a car seat Then bag a bad chick give her the game And now the dame playing with my joystick like atari To marty mcflys I'm the future Take you out of character, you shook, michael j. fox I like it, I take it, fuck "may I" Just say "bye" like confused gay guys But I don't need to be around that I need a crib somewhere in the adirondacks, C.B. radio's only contact Grow a beard, contemplate not coming back Cause other than a-ok and the brown bag I ain't heard nothing past not bad So my favorite MC is me And Homeboy Sandman, my bad [Break: Soul Khan] I'm going to Congress with one hand raised up And I will say, bail out these nuts I'm Soul Khan [Verse 4: Soul Khan] I'm a bad motherfucker and a passionate lover Looking for a smooth chick with her ass on the cover People say soul khan is delusional Because I don't hold back on these juveniles You see, I too once was a clueless child So I'mma flunk your high school musical Ain't none jihad-er, time bomb with a lit wick It's all fun and games, till a socket gets slick ricked Concocting a sick, six, six scenario Even my burial plot probably got big twists Just like shyamalan, yes, I kamikaze These weak-kneed automatons And you can see me at comic con teaching the padawans How to geek out like I'm leading a synagogue Phenomenal with that heatrock spittle Leave the beat so brittle it should be hospitalized And that's that, homie, Soul knows best My tracks slap like motorboating Oprah's breasts Brown bag, a-ok, we're the coldest yet We run the whole damn table, money fold the deck
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