Snowgoons, Lord Lhus - He Sold Out lyrics
[Snowgoons, Lord Lhus - He Sold Out lyrics]
Illegal turn my mic up, let me scream
On all these fag rappers Backpackers
Competition so whack that I ain’t
Gonna mention any names
Plenty flames hit you battling son
And you a faggot if you pose
On the Internet with a gun
You ain’t popping shit but the seeds
In your slack dime sack
I climax from sonning rappers
Give me my rhymes back
You fucking punks that’s why you
Caught the bitch vapors
Spit at a hater, chump, this Lord Lhus
I kick flavor smash through
Ambush your platoon with Snowgoons
Harass crews who spit if they
Whack then it’s bad news fuck a battle
This a war if you’re glorifying
The lame scene accept the
Trojan Horse, then we conquer the mainstream
Bow down or kick rocks
Homie you ain’t as hot as me
I’m a god in Hip-Hop
Study your whack mythologies
I’m centuries ahead of MC's, write
Rhyme in spaceships
I kicked the flow in 80 BC
Battle with ancients
He sold out, not me, not me!
Who sold out? Not me, not me!
Smoke dro out? Yes, indeed that’s me
Lord Lhus, fuck the industry!
Punishing MC's
But I’m not done yet pussy
You cowards pray to the snakes
Sign a five album deal
Not getting paid? You getting raped! You
Think you hustling? The label make
You feel like solid gold
But they want half of your publishing and
Every bit of your soul fuck that!
I’mma hit platinum with battle raps
Instead of cattle crap inside of
A record label contract
Motherfucker you can’t own me this Lord Lhus
I rep the underground homie
Rob record labels with my cronies
What up!?! I get sick with a mic
The flow moves
No room in the venue on stage with
Snowgoons watch me kill a track
Running with savage guerrilla packs
Spit the illest rap
Warn the Asians Godzilla’s back
You ain’t fucking with it
Faggot This is your reminder Lord
Lhus, I’m from South Carolina
Come and get it, punk
I destroy you with no
Remorse saying "Fuck Commercial
Rap and prepare for the Trojan Horse"!
On all these fag rappers Backpackers
Competition so whack that I ain’t
Gonna mention any names
Plenty flames hit you battling son
And you a faggot if you pose
On the Internet with a gun
You ain’t popping shit but the seeds
In your slack dime sack
I climax from sonning rappers
Give me my rhymes back
You fucking punks that’s why you
Caught the bitch vapors
Spit at a hater, chump, this Lord Lhus
I kick flavor smash through
Ambush your platoon with Snowgoons
Harass crews who spit if they
Whack then it’s bad news fuck a battle
This a war if you’re glorifying
The lame scene accept the
Trojan Horse, then we conquer the mainstream
Bow down or kick rocks
Homie you ain’t as hot as me
I’m a god in Hip-Hop
Study your whack mythologies
I’m centuries ahead of MC's, write
Rhyme in spaceships
I kicked the flow in 80 BC
Battle with ancients
He sold out, not me, not me!
Who sold out? Not me, not me!
Smoke dro out? Yes, indeed that’s me
Lord Lhus, fuck the industry!
Punishing MC's
But I’m not done yet pussy
You cowards pray to the snakes
Sign a five album deal
Not getting paid? You getting raped! You
Think you hustling? The label make
You feel like solid gold
But they want half of your publishing and
Every bit of your soul fuck that!
I’mma hit platinum with battle raps
Instead of cattle crap inside of
A record label contract
Motherfucker you can’t own me this Lord Lhus
I rep the underground homie
Rob record labels with my cronies
What up!?! I get sick with a mic
The flow moves
No room in the venue on stage with
Snowgoons watch me kill a track
Running with savage guerrilla packs
Spit the illest rap
Warn the Asians Godzilla’s back
You ain’t fucking with it
Faggot This is your reminder Lord
Lhus, I’m from South Carolina
Come and get it, punk
I destroy you with no
Remorse saying "Fuck Commercial
Rap and prepare for the Trojan Horse"!