Meccah Dawn - Bride of Frankenstein lyrics
[Meccah Dawn - Bride of Frankenstein lyrics]
Y'all would rather have a bitch dumbed down
Than to spit real shit, whole game run down
They killed hip-hop, who you gon' blame now?
Fuck the world up if I came up now
'Cause they don't like my style
Y'all be happy with a Coke and a smile
Want me to walk in the booth
And talk about guns?
But you don't want me to shoot?
True story, you don't want my truth
What truce? I was just gettin' loose
So play your hand, ace trump deuce
Outcome evident what, you niggas need proof?
I bang through the roof, sharp shooter too
Told 'em in '02 you niggas gon' need proof
No disrespect, I pray he rest in peace
Couldn't help myself, man, I'm just a beast
Came back with that recipe
"Never Say Never, " nigga, Justin B
Got bars and war scars
Still mad at the cop for arresting me
The aftermath, PTSD
Burnin' niggas like an STD
Inflict pain like S&P, I mean S&M
Don't question me (question me, question me)
They don't want to fuck with
This Rap Chic no more
Yeah, they gettin' quiet, they gettin' quiet
All you hear is bunch o' niggas screaming
"No, no, no" no Juliet nigga, what?
Bossed on 'em when I rolled through
Didn't have to but I chose to
Showed you, now you mad at me
'Cause you're a fuckin' Stan and
I don't know you
On the blogs hating, and talkin' trash
Y'all niggas acting like hoes do
I could own you, paid dues, I don't owe you
Got 'em all sick, spit too ill
Fuck you, swallow pills
Yo this need to be the intro track
I will kill, kill
Speeding past you like you road kill
I ain't signing shit, nigga, no deal
Paid cash so I'm gon' show my ass
But you ain't gettin' no frills whoa!
Than to spit real shit, whole game run down
They killed hip-hop, who you gon' blame now?
Fuck the world up if I came up now
'Cause they don't like my style
Y'all be happy with a Coke and a smile
Want me to walk in the booth
And talk about guns?
But you don't want me to shoot?
True story, you don't want my truth
What truce? I was just gettin' loose
So play your hand, ace trump deuce
Outcome evident what, you niggas need proof?
I bang through the roof, sharp shooter too
Told 'em in '02 you niggas gon' need proof
No disrespect, I pray he rest in peace
Couldn't help myself, man, I'm just a beast
Came back with that recipe
"Never Say Never, " nigga, Justin B
Got bars and war scars
Still mad at the cop for arresting me
The aftermath, PTSD
Burnin' niggas like an STD
Inflict pain like S&P, I mean S&M
Don't question me (question me, question me)
They don't want to fuck with
This Rap Chic no more
Yeah, they gettin' quiet, they gettin' quiet
All you hear is bunch o' niggas screaming
"No, no, no" no Juliet nigga, what?
Bossed on 'em when I rolled through
Didn't have to but I chose to
Showed you, now you mad at me
'Cause you're a fuckin' Stan and
I don't know you
On the blogs hating, and talkin' trash
Y'all niggas acting like hoes do
I could own you, paid dues, I don't owe you
Got 'em all sick, spit too ill
Fuck you, swallow pills
Yo this need to be the intro track
I will kill, kill
Speeding past you like you road kill
I ain't signing shit, nigga, no deal
Paid cash so I'm gon' show my ass
But you ain't gettin' no frills whoa!