[woman screams]
I'm obsessed
with multiple nude photographs of the beat in my room on the wall
Pondering the verses, fondling my b**** and
Witness a n**** who will take rap and chase it
Through unoccupied dimly lit staircases and rape it
Grab the drums by the waistline {*DJ scratch*}
I s***** the kick, kick the snares and sodomize the bassline
Never waste time, I give the verse rabies
c** on the chorus, tell the hook to swallow my babies
Maybe I might... switch! Let the witch live
The original plan was to kill the b**** on the bridge
Ditch the body parts off somewhere near the crescendo
When my innuendos elapse... my mental window attacks;
the instrumental elapses
Perhaps that's the only reason that I spared her life
You could solo my f***** vocals and I still get trife
Slice the rhythm... disfigure the face of the groove
For any fader that flies or k***s or b***on that moves
Consider this: the loops are similar to c*******es exposed
On your miss is a hole, a vicious cycle of SIN!
That doesn't end 'til I stop f*****
A million emcees and they ain't sayin nuttin
Ain't f***** it right, they ain't f***** it right
They ain't f***** it right, they ain't f***** it right
They ain't f***** it like... ME
[DJ scratch] "Yesss! Yesss!"
She had the nerve to take the case to court, knowin I rape for sport
Took the stand cryin denying her whole invovlvement lying
Why would an ex-cop lie in a s** shop, fly linen down grinnin
with my coat over my shoulder sittin
Browsin p********** (uhh!)
The stenographer smilin the whole time while jotting verbal photography
Her eyes mahogany
I flashed to a photo in my mind of a body
bludgeoned with slashed arteries
Pardon me, back to the case, slap in the face
Examinin the jury similar to crackin a safe
What happens to bass? It was anistic, I would inhale eighths
Sniff that, sat her a** all over my face to taste it
To hell with 1980 remixes - f*** disco
Turned on the 3000, stuck my d*** where the disc go
Yokonaz, ripped the s**y MPC 60, buyin a ticket to hell
Verbally d***in the 12 down, sound s*****
I knew she used to be gritty
Too many impotent emcees in this God forsaken city
Ain't f***** her right, ain't f***** her right
Ain't f***** her like... ME
Consider this (what?) Loops are similar to c*******es exposed
On your miss is a hole, a vicious cycle of SIN!
That doesn't end 'til I stop f*****
A million emcees and they ain't sayin nuttin
Ain't f***** it right, they ain't f***** it right
They ain't f***** it right, they ain't f***** it right
They ain't f***** it right, they ain't f***** it right
They ain't f***** it like... ME
I'm obsessed
with multiple nude photographs of the beat in my room on the wall
Pondering the verses, fondling my b**** and
Witness a n**** who will take rap and chase it
Through unoccupied dimly lit staircases and rape it
Grab the drums by the waistline {*DJ scratch*}
I s***** the kick, kick the snares and sodomize the bassline
Never waste time, I give the verse rabies
c** on the chorus, tell the hook to swallow my babies
Maybe I might... switch! Let the witch live
The original plan was to kill the b**** on the bridge
Ditch the body parts off somewhere near the crescendo
When my innuendos elapse... my mental window attacks;
the instrumental elapses
Perhaps that's the only reason that I spared her life
You could solo my f***** vocals and I still get trife
Slice the rhythm... disfigure the face of the groove
For any fader that flies or k***s or b***on that moves
Consider this: the loops are similar to c*******es exposed
On your miss is a hole, a vicious cycle of SIN!
That doesn't end 'til I stop f*****
A million emcees and they ain't sayin nuttin
Ain't f***** it right, they ain't f***** it right
They ain't f***** it right, they ain't f***** it right
They ain't f***** it like... ME
[DJ scratch] "Yesss! Yesss!"
She had the nerve to take the case to court, knowin I rape for sport
Took the stand cryin denying her whole invovlvement lying
Why would an ex-cop lie in a s** shop, fly linen down grinnin
with my coat over my shoulder sittin
Browsin p********** (uhh!)
The stenographer smilin the whole time while jotting verbal photography
Her eyes mahogany
I flashed to a photo in my mind of a body
bludgeoned with slashed arteries
Pardon me, back to the case, slap in the face
Examinin the jury similar to crackin a safe
What happens to bass? It was anistic, I would inhale eighths
Sniff that, sat her a** all over my face to taste it
To hell with 1980 remixes - f*** disco
Turned on the 3000, stuck my d*** where the disc go
Yokonaz, ripped the s**y MPC 60, buyin a ticket to hell
Verbally d***in the 12 down, sound s*****
I knew she used to be gritty
Too many impotent emcees in this God forsaken city
Ain't f***** her right, ain't f***** her right
Ain't f***** her like... ME
Consider this (what?) Loops are similar to c*******es exposed
On your miss is a hole, a vicious cycle of SIN!
That doesn't end 'til I stop f*****
A million emcees and they ain't sayin nuttin
Ain't f***** it right, they ain't f***** it right
They ain't f***** it right, they ain't f***** it right
They ain't f***** it right, they ain't f***** it right
They ain't f***** it like... ME