Kool Keith - You Get Yours lyrics

Yo Keith, what up? This is DJ Kutmasta Kurt
You know I get about 82 thousand
3 million records in the mail
But now I can only play about 2
What's up with that?

There are 8 billion 2
Thousand white black records
They on my scrotum they should
Be on whack records
I know the industry is wet like a labia
Everybody's crazy, gone hysterical
Def Jam flopped, the whole Epic was a miracle

MC's came psycho, toy like Tyco
Poppin' that weak shit like Myers
You ain't Michael
I left my sons in space behind years ago
Coco puffs, your crew remind me of a Cheerio
You're like a condom
An old piece of dried up sperm


Don't try to mess with me
You rappin' fuckin' germ
MC's come up they call themself now Papa
I'm entertained watchin' prime time
Do do droppa

You dissed the naked man
You ain't the boss man
I run over panties and heads
With a Range Rover i kidnap Amy
Grab my tapes back from Marc Genova
And stick an enema pipe
Right into Faith Newman
You think I'm Lincoln
Abraham or Harry Truman

You get yours, cum smeared all in your face
You get yours, tell me how it tastes?
You get yours, cum smeared all in your face
You get yours, tell me how it tastes?
You get yours, cum smeared all in your face
You get yours, tell me how it tastes?

One two, one two copycats sound like my wife
You on my balls kiddie style
Man sound like Phife i'm illin' tonight
You see me stand with Suge Knight
You rappers are scared
Now wet rectums get tight

You might as well sing a
Simple song like you're Brandy
You wanna be down
Put panties on I'll call you Sandy
Like Stu watchin' his back
Yo that shit is fine
Hold 'em and piss David Berk
Wanna blow his mind
Shootin' the jizm, MC's lightin' stinkin' Izm
Awe that stink put that out
Man that blunt shit i'm on some cunnalingus
Women know that cunt shit
Gimmick experts your logo's won't
Make it work

As Monica Lynch about the Flinstones
Niggas still lickin' my dick
Like chicken bones
Who's on wax with pumps on wack soundtracks?
Lisa Cortez or Ed shoulda called me

Russell and Lyor
Andre know that shit would bore me
Look in your Rolodex Naked Man
I come and flex
Tie up your anus rectum piece
Brothers heads are next

Girl rappers lick my ass
Before they're most famous
You name 'em all I
Gave abortions with hangers
Spread 'em easy people, this won't hurt

You get yours, cum smeared all in your face
You get yours, tell me how it tastes?
You get yours, cum smeared all in your face
You get yours, tell me how it tastes?
You get yours, cum smeared all in your face
You get yours, tell me how it tastes?

You ran to Pete Rock, you ran to Premier
With New York sounds
Professor couldn't save your career
Watch your ass Ducket
Play me out like Dave Gossit
MC's should quit or sign with Tuff City
I left management and Alex
Fuckin' tough titty
I went to Hammers house some
People didn't know me
Dave Jacobson was lying
What the fuck he just told me?
Lookin' back at Tom Silverman's convention
Money was made and counted for
Not to mention

Laminates don't cost much, that shit is cheap
Like nigga's tryin' front at Jack
The Rapper every week
Don't try that hand shake shit
My dick is more legit
You get yours, cum smeared all in your face

You puppets on Jive with budget
Tryin' a stay alive
Suckin' the dick twice of
Owner kid Barry Weiss
You like red dirt the two faced alcoholic

You get yours, cum smeared all in your face
You get yours, tell me how it tastes?
You get yours, cum smeared all in your face
You get yours, tell me how it tastes?
You get yours, cum smeared all in your face
You get yours, tell me how it tastes?

Sunday 11: 37 pm

Yeah, now that's what I'm talkin' about
I think I should just take these records
And start an ash tray business
Or maybe I'll uh just donate
'em to the Goodwill (Huh, huh)
Atleast it's a tax write off, aight man
Peace