Kool Keith - Iraqi Verse lyrics
[Kool Keith - Iraqi Verse lyrics]
Yeah
I'm finished workin on the project already
The hype prolonged it
You couldn't handle the deadline
Your team wasn't ready
You tried a pop direction
That wasn't yo' section
We looked over your chorus and yo' rap bars
Analyzed your music, those happy-ass keys
Made you softer than ever
Rap some more you should never
I decided to listen, I turned the music off
Becaue the melodies were cotton candy
The music was soft
I heard too much pantyliner stuff
Too much model and whack-ass designer stuff
No masculine touch
Adolescent, let the guy know
His tracks is whack he won't be back
Disrespect yo' production, producer credit's
Receive the B stain on the form
Now face the two inch, reel gettin warm
Drop the top of your head
Drum machine gets smacked up beside your face
With a six pack of beer
I urinate on you Pro Tools mix in your ear
Yellow hats wearin construction gear
Tear down the knobs, off the manly
Set the focus right on fire
You better call the cops and
Hide behind the Stanley
Studio booked up, New York power play
Unique tried to ban me
Type of guy to bring Texaco
Gas in the vocal booth
Light a match, burn up your whole family
You're just a big talker
You're not a man to me
Pulled the wires out the back of the amp
Defecate on your drum pads with a maxi
Brown sheepskin, black execution mask
Brass out your Yamaha speakers
Shotgun I missed three
Other speakers I got one, with great danes
Chewin out your amps
You won't be able to duck for long
Seen niggas in summer camp
With men-e-strual cramps
Watch the black afro in the
Corner with the Huggies
With the diaper rash around your pelvis
Drivin a green Volkswagen buggy
You know Muggy
7 foot 7 orangutang baboon face
From Baltimore
Maryland notorious comin up the turnpike
To move your SSL board out to Richmond
Tony Pissman in the stationwagon
Your engineer's scared to mix the record
Down, next to my cousin Bucky
Just eight other computers destroyed
The B-room is still there
Your clients are lucky
I'm finished workin on the project already
The hype prolonged it
You couldn't handle the deadline
Your team wasn't ready
You tried a pop direction
That wasn't yo' section
We looked over your chorus and yo' rap bars
Analyzed your music, those happy-ass keys
Made you softer than ever
Rap some more you should never
I decided to listen, I turned the music off
Becaue the melodies were cotton candy
The music was soft
I heard too much pantyliner stuff
Too much model and whack-ass designer stuff
No masculine touch
Adolescent, let the guy know
His tracks is whack he won't be back
Disrespect yo' production, producer credit's
Receive the B stain on the form
Now face the two inch, reel gettin warm
Drop the top of your head
Drum machine gets smacked up beside your face
With a six pack of beer
I urinate on you Pro Tools mix in your ear
Yellow hats wearin construction gear
Tear down the knobs, off the manly
Set the focus right on fire
You better call the cops and
Hide behind the Stanley
Studio booked up, New York power play
Unique tried to ban me
Type of guy to bring Texaco
Gas in the vocal booth
Light a match, burn up your whole family
You're just a big talker
You're not a man to me
Pulled the wires out the back of the amp
Defecate on your drum pads with a maxi
Brown sheepskin, black execution mask
Brass out your Yamaha speakers
Shotgun I missed three
Other speakers I got one, with great danes
Chewin out your amps
You won't be able to duck for long
Seen niggas in summer camp
With men-e-strual cramps
Watch the black afro in the
Corner with the Huggies
With the diaper rash around your pelvis
Drivin a green Volkswagen buggy
You know Muggy
7 foot 7 orangutang baboon face
From Baltimore
Maryland notorious comin up the turnpike
To move your SSL board out to Richmond
Tony Pissman in the stationwagon
Your engineer's scared to mix the record
Down, next to my cousin Bucky
Just eight other computers destroyed
The B-room is still there
Your clients are lucky