Lyrics:
best step back 'cause I'mma kill, I'ma kill
So, what you thinking, Mr. Raggedy man?
Doing all you can to look like Raggedy Ann
Check you out, punk
whattup?
Ayo black men, you're dyin' by a dozen cousin
So all I do is walk away yo' Prince as if nothin' happened
You call me a punk, I gotta step cause
Nite, yeah
Ayo kid, for years I've been into rap
Writing funky rhymes to get my name on the map
And by now I know I'm hitting
'Cause I say a rhyme
on any punk ass nigga or bitch
The little brown skin buddha sucker little motherfucker
I dwell in Juvenile Hell (yea yea)
I got the shit that
from your mouth, rapid and dirty.
So all you scene kids,
Bow your heads to the "kings of your scene"
And abide by their punk rock laws and man made
the outlaw stridin' while suckers are hidin'
Jump behind the bush when they see me (us) driving
By, hangin' out the window
With my Magnum, takin' out some
Just two punk kids on holiday
Sipping spiked pink lemonade
Young love we were so high
Camped out during low tide
I wonder if you miss me,The way I miss
to the Armageddon, Lord
Know that I won't fly by that lesson
You taught me to pull out my Wesson you brought me
And I'm not stressing it softly
Get 'em up off me,
ease the guns in
Rumble with patrolmen, tear gas laced the function
Heads by the score take flight, incite a war
Chicks hit the floor, diehard fans
[foul mouthed girl yelling at Bill on the phone]
[Bushwick Bill]
You can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear
Gotta start with the right
by the
End of the show
I got 30 niggas on stage and 10 in the row
Ya know
Get ya gun, we gon' come for you
We'll lay ya ass out
The shells hit you
they were drawn to you like moths to a flame
Nobody saw the tears in your silk n' lace
Or the scarred little kid behind your face
Just remember when you
and we winning by ten
We proudly win, we all -? - up
(Boo) You in my house, you get no love
We be balling
Everybody likes sort of plays we calling
Your
all along,
We taught ourselves the right from wrong.
And the punk rock kids, and the techno kids,
No, it's not their fault.
And the hip hop boys
understand it
Their kids gone and even reach a man yet
I try to free the hip
Hop when I rapping lines
But every time I try
It ends up being crime time
Go
This next song, is a song, is one of the first songs
That I grew up listening to when I was into punk rock
It's song by a band that we respect a lot
Used to spend time all by myself
On the things that I'd wanna do
But now there's nowhere I'd rather be
Than be there right next to you
I was caught
don't just say no, we to busy sayin' yeah!
About drinkin'' straight out the eight bottle
Do I look like a mutha fuckin role model?
To a kid lookin' up
Manson, I'm a muthafuckin' thriller
Friday 13th's my birthday, so I was a born killer
Brought up as a trouble kid, devious shit's what I shoulda did
Mom
Give this nigga some sticks....
Yo Fuck it up Yella
[M.C. Ren]
Yo were two hard muthafuckaz
takin' out any punk ass suckaz
can you believe this or so be
tweakers with a government tab
Had me born in a beaker to be raised in a lab
I'm Kid Copter
Co-opted by the corporate alliance who reported to clients
That
A n**** ready from the get go (blowe, blowe, blowe)
Y'all hear my s*** go, it's Andre. Can yo punk a** come out to play?
Stay in your little hole,
for that busta shit
By the time I was 9, seen a bunch of shit
Lost more homies than a Iraq vet
Niggas skipping on groceries to buy that Tec
Lost a few
for that busta shit
By the time I was 9, seen a bunch of shit
Lost more homies than a Iraq vet
Niggas skipping on groceries to buy that Tec
Lost a few
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