[Bizarre]
Emceeeeeeees..
RUN!
Or get hit
with my, verbal, gun!
This mic weighs
a ton!
Dozen battles
for fun..
I'll disrespect
you, and your crew
Here comes
MC.. IQ!
[IQ]
Yo' fakeness
is atrocious, post this, deep in yo' hypnosis
Then focus,
roll this and smoke this
like L's of
that bomb-ass herb that's guaranteed to rock bells
A hip-hop
ReFugee like Prazwell; travellin cities pimpin
babblin biddies
game trump tight to solidify
Computerized
to get rid of spies - know what I do to guys
shootin and
spittin lies? I'm banishin existance
Just vanish
any instances, brandishin sentences
Provin repentence
is the only way to see me, don't miss these
Me and my
crew smoke so many trees that I piss leaves
Never bammer
bitch please, but keep smoke in my system
Roll blunts,
it's all tight, on a off night
I still smoke
like exhaust pipes
and bust a
universal flow to blow your wig back
Like niggaz
with toupees, drivin a convertible
And furthermore
I run the board; yo' shit is played
And the way
you fell off you couldn't bounce back with a bungee cord
[Chorus 4X:
Bizarre]
Bring your
boys and, we can bring the noise and
YOU DON'T
WANNA FUCK WITH DIRTY DOZEN!
[Bizarre]
My crew is
like amazed, put in fear like ex-slaves
Who wanna
step to this microphone and think that they BRAVE?
Dozen always
startin the fuckin beef
I don't give
a fuck if you from Kansas, I'm still the fuckin +CHIEF+
Back the fuck
up I'm releasin my dum-dums
Tell your
whore stop pagin me, 9-1-1
I'm a star
that they call Bizarre
Smokin blunts
with Mel Farr in my brand new car
The nigga
(?) write rhyme wanna see me
If I was in
Arizona, I'd still request iced tea
Bizarre don't
give a shit about you
On top of
the mountain - ain't nuttin your bitch-ass crew can do
Sick MC that
they call Peter
Treat your
crew like an unexpected, meter reader
Talkin more
shit than Howard Cosell
Butt-fuckin
Jezebels in nasty hotels
[Chorus]
[Proof]
How you think
yo' crew sound, compared to this?
It's the team
that yo' entire clique scared to diss
Demandin,
attentions when the glock sound
Y'all niggaz
to be murdered like Jeffery Dahmer's on lock down
I'm Brown
like Bobby, pullin hoes like Whitney
Take your
title kill your moms - so you won't forget me
Lips sealed;
nigga, I might blow important plots
Whoever front
is gettin done like Michael Jordan pops
Yo I'm number
one translator, mic famed Dirty D
Y'all niggaz
gettin hung like this was 1933
Got word of
me now flee, cause you ain't got a chance
Death is three
easy steps so now we gotta dance
So look away
don't play with the style master
I love killin
beef, so I kill a whole cow pasture
Lyrically
I'm sick ill, everything but sober
Ny nickel-plate,
pack the disc-tray
Jack and fool
get fucked over - BRING IT!
[Eminem]
Dirty Dozen
is the clique so walk right over and lynch ya
Rip the ass
right out ya pants like a Doberman Pinscher
Like the Cobra
and Ninja, my intention's to injure
And prevent
ya from enterin from an inch of my center
Or get your
motherfuckin pants split at the creases
Fuckin you
intellectually;
givin you
mental sexually transmitted diseases
My duty is
to keep a stranger barred
I guard my
sector like a Saint Bernard, and this ain't the yard
Bringin the
noise like a trigger happy gun slinger
Droppin your
whole clique with one finger 'til none linger
Beware of
my dogs attackin like a pack of Great Danes
Chargin like
freight trains through the great plains
[Chorus] |