Buddha Monk And Popa Wu I'm Not A Rapper текст песни, слова песни I'm Not A Rapper Buddha Monk And Popa Wu
Buddha Monk And Popa Wu - I'm Not A Rapper
Yeah, the name of this joint right here is "I'm Not a Rapper"
So, don't ask me to freestyle, cause my style ain't free
[Burp] You pig [hiccup] Chk-chu
Bless you, kazuntite [coughing]
[Babyface Fensta:]
Let me clear my throat, that's all you wrote?
Ya pen is cold, the ink flows from a ballpoint
You ain't got a sure grip, Soul Train
Roscoe P. Coltrane, it's Hazard, Duke
Shook, scared to look when I shoot game
My Park Brothers ego's quick
Tick, tick, and boom! Blow up they spot
I sell death, so I guess I'm cursed
But my fam is eating, so what's worse?
Let 'em starve, or sacrifice, Dead Man Walking
I hear you talking but you can't fit my Timbs
I ain't a freestyler, I'm a writer
I need to get paid for my shit
[Chorus: Babyface Fensta]
Yo, I'm not a rapper, I'm a lyricist
You keep freestyling on 106, I'm a keep getting dough on East 1-5th
A fist full of dollars, sipping Henny with a bitch
Poetic when I spit it, I think fifteen times before I write it
I'm a hip hop recording artist
[Babyface Fensta:]
Yo, so what it ain't written?
You still smitten with my style, unorthodox, wild
You freestyling? Just rhyming? Is you receiving a cheque?
Oh, you just do this for rep, you ain't getting no plaques
Ask Supernatural, ya easy flow could be found in The Source
You make people laugh [laughs], you should be a comedian
You make everybody so happy, Def Jam Comedy champion
I call you Re-Run, a sit-com in syndication
I turn ya station, cause I seen ya show before
Off-Broadway play, ya style ain't grow up yet to join the big show
You spit too salty, I spray tracks with pepper
Haha, The Joker, poke ya with a hot poker
Brand polka dots on ya grill, get the charcoil
I'm roasted to snap up, a bunch of rappers that took the bait
Hook, line and sinker, you stinker
[Chorus]
[Babyface Fensta:]
I turn fans, into the Spectacular Spider-Man
Have 'em all climbing the walls, Green Goblins
Bunch of mad scientists, the motion of my wrist traps you flies in my web
Spin the barrel, cock the hammer, pull the trigger
What is we playing, you figure?
If it's war, I'm in the trenches
Rocking war paint, disguise my face, I'm The Saint
Surprise, I splash Ajax in the eyes of wiseguys
[Chorus x2]
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