The Rapsody, Redman - Syrinx lyrics
[The Rapsody, Redman - Syrinx lyrics]
So what I rock the tracks
That be weird like that
Even to this you couldn't
Catch me with Fotomat
My Mac will leave you more
Cheeky than the Japs
DOA i'll make ya like a big cat
Feel the raft of a
Shaft brother getting dapped
Like a little from Brooklyn hangin
With nut crack just that
Tight nigga that'll light cigars
Blow sniffers became fiends to flow spitters
Fuck you
Make sure you bring your phone witcha
Twist the situation and make your hoe hit ya
(Redman) Rock, rock on, open you
With the fumes of smoke I
Left in the vocal booth
Disabling plugs and microphone cabling
Smoke filled automobiles I rode daily in
I hooked the track 'till it blows
Shit, for 30 G's I'll ride blindfold
With bongos, ha ha
So hit the road, Jack
And don't you come back
Shit I wanna make the cheddar
'till I make base collapse
Hit more holes than Minnesota Fats
Your brain's been tapped
By superior aristocrat
Murder 16 bars drunk off of Schnapps
Pump so many tracks you might
Think I do crack rip the microphone like a
Hair wrestling match
Lick your lips bitch cause your
Shit might eat chap
You know Nikki D, these fake bitches be
On some bullshit fucking with the Triple P
Demolish, wax polished
This dick I got will make
The baddest bitch topless, jobless
Fuck around with it, Red lit it
Shit it, got niggers in Germany blitty
Now I'm the new president and selling spinach
50 cent and up, can't handle get the ditty
That be weird like that
Even to this you couldn't
Catch me with Fotomat
My Mac will leave you more
Cheeky than the Japs
DOA i'll make ya like a big cat
Feel the raft of a
Shaft brother getting dapped
Like a little from Brooklyn hangin
With nut crack just that
Tight nigga that'll light cigars
Blow sniffers became fiends to flow spitters
Fuck you
Make sure you bring your phone witcha
Twist the situation and make your hoe hit ya
(Redman) Rock, rock on, open you
With the fumes of smoke I
Left in the vocal booth
Disabling plugs and microphone cabling
Smoke filled automobiles I rode daily in
I hooked the track 'till it blows
Shit, for 30 G's I'll ride blindfold
With bongos, ha ha
So hit the road, Jack
And don't you come back
Shit I wanna make the cheddar
'till I make base collapse
Hit more holes than Minnesota Fats
Your brain's been tapped
By superior aristocrat
Murder 16 bars drunk off of Schnapps
Pump so many tracks you might
Think I do crack rip the microphone like a
Hair wrestling match
Lick your lips bitch cause your
Shit might eat chap
You know Nikki D, these fake bitches be
On some bullshit fucking with the Triple P
Demolish, wax polished
This dick I got will make
The baddest bitch topless, jobless
Fuck around with it, Red lit it
Shit it, got niggers in Germany blitty
Now I'm the new president and selling spinach
50 cent and up, can't handle get the ditty