Print

[Verse 1:] I'm from the gun shine state so my gun must shine, I'm trying to impregnate Beyonce's sister, just one more time So, take a toke of this, you won't be breathing well I'm all about biscuits and trees, like a Keibler Elf I snuff bikers give a fuck, I ride a unicycle With plush tires right through the offices of rough riders Here's a thug reminder, a goon quick tip: You belong in the ladies' room, cause you be on some bitch shit I'll never stop writing rhymes like this, (Cause) Show you what a point blank shot to your ribs (Does) You seen the holes those shells made? You a hotel maid, cause all you do is foam, that's so gay I tried to kick a field goal, I missed the ball, my shoe flew off and hit you in the fucken head with a steel toe, For real though, I got this underground bullshit wrapped around my finger, Not a rapper or singer that's quite as I'll as I am Carve out your eyes and scramble them bitches next to the bacon in my frying pan I was a stick-up kid, it was fucked up but fun (Why?) Cause I used a Nintendo Duck Hunt gun [Chorus:] Step to me, better Step Correctly Cause I'm a break your jaw if you disrespect me Get on the mic, get on the mic, god damnit, Get on the mic Songtexte [Verse 2:] Pull up right next to you at the drive-thru I ain't here to buy food, stupid ain't no telling what I might do Lickin' shots, speed off, with the perfect timing, Yeah the tires screech, no it ain't Dustin Diamond You fuckin suck at rhymin, weak impostors, I've been iller You're Ben Stiller, it's time to Meet the Fockers You don't greet me proper I'm a slam your head mother fucken face down flat into a greasy saucer Pass the cheesy salsa, I'm making nachos I told you we gonna make it rain so bitch bring a pancho I'm the best at war, that's what the heckler for Play me like it's chess and I'll smack you with a checker board You should check my repo, it's quite impressive baby This year I'm eatin' real meal like veal with extra gravy You was an extra for a lady in a cheap film In a nasty scene that left the camera lens with skeet film Without a doubt, yeah we know what you're about You love sausage so much, when you talk you spit sauerkraut Yeah, you heard me? Yo, when you talk you spit sauerkraut out your mouth, Biatch [Chorus:] So if you're gonna step, better Step Correctly I got the microphone skills, gods bless me So if you're gonna step, Step Correctly Mister Sinister, tell 'em who I'm gonna get to have the best beats Aus Songtexte Mania