Hardcore Chemical
(专辑: A Brand You Can Trust - 2009)
I'm the
problem and the
solution The
revolution won't be televised, it's too gruesome Too gangster, too graphic for you born-again faggots My words inspire people like the
Ten Commandments I
floss with diamond teeth, SCUBA dive on a
private beach Billy Idol smoke chronic with Cheech I
cut your tongue out for talking against me My enemies' grandchildren will remember me for centuries The
fine line between insanity and genius Murder you, I
give your reality a
remix Humanity's beneath us, we super humans Super tyrants, super-violent, listen to the
way my nine click Right before I
pop your collar The
most hated from New York like I
shot your mama Compare me to Amazon.com for dollars Canarsie Osama, riding with a
mass of martyrs, fucker Hardcore chemical, gangster material Tri-city machine bang in your stereo Put em up, shut em down Keep it raw, riding with the
gutter sound Hardcore chemical, gangster material Tri-city machine bang in your stereo Put em up, shut em down Keep it raw, riding with the
gutter sound The
thicker the
plot, the
quicker the
shot, the
liquor and pot Got me higher than the
Denver junkie, shocking the
monkey Feeding his habit, set it up, cook it up, tie it off and stab it Shoot it up, feel the
rush then throw up your guts Nod out for a
while cause the
style is nuts Like I'm in Roca, it's fucking Coka These other cats fake it with that baking soda This is it, this is it, yeah I'm back on the
shit again Danny Boy, Danny Boy, you ever gonna spit again? C'mon homie you know me, yeah I
birthed your style The
money-back guarantee, I
make it worth your while Still the
Cadillac King, I
don't fuck with foreign cars American, I
need a
blowjob and a
porn star Nobody move, no not one punk I
fuck around and pull out my shotgun pump Hardcore chemical, gangster material Tri-city machine bang in your stereo Put em up, shut em down Keep it raw, riding with the
gutter sound Hardcore chemical, gangster material Tri-city machine bang in your stereo Put em up, shut em down Keep it raw, riding with the
gutter sound Yeah, dope motherfuckers, I
came back to spit Move with the
hunger fueled by a
lack of chips When I
lose my cool and shoot it's accurate Give me some room, I
make yous move back a
bit I
came from a
town where the
hope can drown Bought a
teaspoon [?] from the
dope and found With their necks tied up and the
rope around Eighties cars overheated broken down Car-thieving heathen, living where no odds or even Gambling fist fighters watching the
kid bobbing and weaving Everybody scheming, we all deceiving I
wrote my words on the
walls of mausoleums Now I
stand in a
position of strength So I
speak for those who can't, I
spit what I
think I'm from the
city where motherfuckers were sticking the
pigs I
rep the
Irish street cats and the
micks in the
clink Hardcore chemical, gangster material Tri-city machine bang in your stereo Put em up, shut em down Keep it raw, riding with the
gutter sound Hardcore chemical, gangster material Tri-city machine bang in your stereo Put em up, shut em down Keep it raw, riding with the
gutter sound