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Esham

Homey Don't Play!

 

Homey Don't Play!

(альбом: Homey Don't Play! - 1991)


Born broke, beat up, and always honked at
Gimme an uzi and you suckas get the fuck back
I'll bust your mind like a watermelon
And as you listen you'll find your brain swelling
I'll go Oo so, solo who so
Deads compare themselves with death die
Don't ask why my styles uncopiable
Some try, but they just too sloppy so
Thou shall not come closer
'Cause all the suckas who bite'll blow up like an explosive
I'll stamp a pentagram dead on your forehead
And as soon as ya say a lyric your dead
X marks the spot where your body falls
Then I'll grab your soul and roll, 'cause my duty calls
So all you suckas get the fuck out my way
When I drop the mic you'll say, homie don't play

The U-N-H-O-L-Y, hell of a helly
I'm like the devil in your body writing bite me on your belly
Like the exorcist, the devil's groove keeps flowing
Turn out the lights and my body starts glowing
In neon, that's 'cause I'ma pee on reality
The U-N-H-O-L-Y
There's a lotta evil minds but only one devil
Of the dog turning back on what 'cha get, but don't forget
I hit like no other
You see my rhyme is like a pillow it's made to smother
Try to diss me I'ma murder ya, I never hearda ya
A son of a gunner and I'ma kill a everyone a ya
Something you've never seen, put you in a guillotine
The psycho labelled me as a killer teen
When I drop the mic your parents pray
Get the fuck out my way, 'cause homey don't play

Break out the Holy Water, as I slaughter
Better change your last name 'cause I'm going in alphabetical order
And it won't stop 'cause I won't stop
With the tick, tick, a tick, tick, a tick, tock , a tick tock
Can't you get it through your head
That it can't get no defer 'cause my lyrics already dead
Hoping, wishing, praying, someday I'll stop what I'm saying
But I can't, it seems like I'm possesed with something
The U-N-H-O-L-Y, keep my mind jumping
Get up, get down to the rhythm of death
Suckas thinking I'm taking a break
Them suckas falling every time I lose my a breath
But still I don't stop to the beat
One time, one rhyme, and I still blew your mind
Everytime I drop the mic I bet everybody say
Homie don't fucking play

Everytime I kick shit, it's labelled as wicked shit
Don't try to bullshit 'cause I'll fill you with bullets and shit
Rapping with my red head, some say my brains dead
Mocking what I'm rocking then your saying what insane said
Suckas are suicidal, unholy is homicidal
I'm coming inside your mind and I'm taking your title
You wanna be me, but suckas can't see me
Cause I'm a ghostwriter, funky funky fresh
Not unless I get my point across
My illing and illin's what I have to do
If you bite my lyrics I'm coming after you
Not physically, but mentally, rocking instrumentally
If you listen too hard it might kill instantsistantly
I can get in doubobly, until I see your mind work
Your thinking so hard your fake me cause your mind hurt
When you pass out you'll have to say
"Get outta that nigga way man" cause homie don't play

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