Kool Keith - Everybody Playin' Here lyrics

Yo I ain't hearin nothin
Kool Keith in the place
I'mma be all up in your face
Yo, I'mma tell you
I don't wanna hear what you got to say

'Gwan from here, forget the all-star game
Light your ass man with flame
Urinate in the brain
Ladies react move with panties
Off with the prawns
Imposter from the Barbados
Private jets shock your island
40 oz undercover with a cashmere
Your fake Gucci glasses
Your jacket's made out of reindeer
Jealous, I know you act like you don't hear
Top controller, winey waste
I'm not impressed, beyond your fat stomach
Twist your tiny waist
Jacket and juice leave your bad
Mouth with a bad taste we keep it clean
No passin gas or sardines in here
No girls with a lack of
Hygeine with sardines in here
Yo, you know Garland, open the roof
Crack the beer

It's apparent, tell no shame in here
Everybody know the game in here
Know you playin in here
What you sayin in here you're playin here

Like Free and Mary J blige
AJ look like the Predator
#1 with the tec-9 in the duffel bag
I'm your competitor
Bounty catcher master, you face me in America
You know you guys rhymin
Little gay for commercial
Deep in the industry, the anal crevices
Y'all date men
Your bodyguards too busy datin trends
The kid on the mic
Your hype man goes the other way
Santa Monica butt boys
Fly your girls in from Chicago, Illanois
Ask the judge right here
Don't budge right here
Y'all light in the ass, featherweight
Fly your kite here
Bird figures, y'all ain't all that
Don't let me reveal you
Cap peel you, top of the mansion butt boys
Earnin for girls, y'all strut boys
Play your right hand side with Tonka toys
Walkin back and forth like
IDAK against your crew
Sayin "crush, kill, destroy"
Asian girls relax on Soul Train, you're stiff
Eat your bok choi


Special effects make most of your
Average rappers with pastel colors
Wallpaper in your background, I P-IS-S on you
Game benefit's, collect C-IS-S on you
Don't need one mic there
I'd rather vomit on two
People suck! Are you down? I'm in your area
You bad, the more the merrier santa Claus
Put flammable fluid to your claws
I break all sissy laws
Treat you like a prosti' on Sunset, you bet
I know you're in the back of the aisle
Your girdle's wet you got the nerve to move
And listen to Keitho Sweat look around yo
You're like the girl who used to
Sing a long time in Florida
I call you Anquette