aus dem Album: Kutmasta Kurt presents Masters of Illusion
Songtext:
[Kool Keith] Beschriftung Bonn Man, I turn on the TV man I was in the mall, one of the rappers I seen up at the mall wearin the gold chains, one of the guys from BET Man them boys is souped up, just I walked up to one with my wife, asked for an autograph He turned his back to me {*scratch: "Because I am so cool!"*}
I waste no time tellin you in front of your ugly girlfriend you can't rhyme Smack your engineer with a tall can of Olde English beer Urinate on your SSL board and your lyrics sheet Defecate in the hood at your store for leavin your fans butt-naked with a box of Pampers in the middle of the street Blow your socks off, send the girls you take to exquisite resteraunts to Pink Hot Dog, exclusive company just miss the masses Talk to white girls with flat stomachs, no stretch marks, with black girl asses Upscale extravagant, no autographs Tell the Backstreet Boys I'm arrogant Lady singers and rappers, I'm Keith Livingston your lawyer, I'm gonna work you My job is to give you a Benz, close your publishing deal while I jerk you The contract's ready, you already signed the first two Your buttcrack is I'ma put you on Rap City with Tigger and hurt you Nothin to reimburse you, my voodoo curse you Anything that come out I will alert you Turn your ass around like a marble head baby and burp you Smack you, beat you with a telephone cord, I can reach you All I hear is "yo stop Keith, stop it Keith"
[Chorus 2X: MOI] [K] Arrogant, autographs, them ni'az can't sign them? Souped up, souped up [M] While I stay in demand, your naked wife knows I'm cocky Souped up, souped up
[Motion Man - instead of last line] Yo I drop in buttwipe, doodoo Charmin under pillows
That dude who fairyland turd drop with big words Expose my other self, drippin off the bedspread Stank bed, you smell 'em in your head, screamin when you wake up cause it's obvious, I'm really really really funky Typical Motion tantalizing, climbing up the track The jock's on, rappers watch me in the field shakin pom poms I got a whole section of 'em loaded Bowl reflectin to the rhyme I wrote it Like Dr. Dooom, sandwich up the rotor, no appetizer Just a full course meal fillin statements from the Motionizer Gorilla grip, I grab rappers by they dry lips Straight thug a bear hug Grizzly Adams couldn't tame Wild from Animal Bill, also precise Yo mami cosi en carne, yo papi usted Y spice Cause I been spyin on her, extremely relyin on her Your sister too, now whatchu wanna do? (You wanna do) I fuck a n'ia like Chitty, Ohana too, followed you In the air like a molecule The standard prototype, explicit rap extreme and souped up
