Just a Feelin' - Celph Titled

Just a Feelin' - Celph Titled

Альбом
The Gatalog
Год
2002
Язык
`Engelska`
Длительность
229610

Nedan finns texten till låten Just a Feelin' , artist - Celph Titled med översättning

Låttexten " Just a Feelin' "

Originaltext med översättning

Just a Feelin'

Celph Titled

I wanna make a mill so I can change and act strange

Get an Andre 3000 wig with some bangs

I’ll hang and bang your frame like the Predator do

Turn in your album kid, I’m the editor dude

I’m takin' out you, your producer and your crew

(Ayo, that’s why they hate you)

I’mma spit in your food

Turn in your eggs and steak

Just throw it off your plate

You’re shook cause your mom called and pre-booked a date

Now when thugs hear this beat, they wanna do the Hammer dance

I keep so many guns on me

I gotta rock Hammer pants

God Damn I’m the man

(Who's that?)

I’ve been a star since Pat Benatar been a star

I seen you talkin' to some men at the bar

But I ain’t know who they was

Here’s a round on us

We gonna throw 'em some slugs

Launch 'em a scud

And put the Glock to the back of your head

My burner stay scaldin' hot

Leave you with a balding spot

«Y'all shut up and listen»

«Just a feeling»

«Ain't nothin', ain’t frontin'»

«Just a feeling»

«Bitch, yeah, we murder the rest»

«Just a feeling»

«Y'all in trouble now»

«Y'all shut up and listen»

«Just a feeling»

«Ain't nothin', ain’t frontin'»

«Just a feeling»

«Bitch, yeah, we murder the rest»

«Just a feeling»

«That bullshits not me, that bullshit is you» — KRS-One

I’m a dangerous man like highly flammable flannels

(And what?) And lit Roman candles (Oh)

Majik man handles

My groping ass, flat breast sick sex scandal

In my private jet you can bet I’m not sober

Reverend Run’s on a runway, I"ll run his ass over

I’ll leave your melon with a massive comb over

Diagnose with melanoma and gang green and a coma

And I’ll eat your spleen with kidney beans and it’s over

Don’t stick your head out

It’s huntin' season for duck niggas

Elmer Fudd with the pump loaded

You better duck niggas

No Rogaine just propane to make your wig flammable

Keep my weapon concealed inside’a stuffed animals

Stash rifles in giraffe necks

Smack you with a hockey stick

Now that’s a bad check

Why give a bitch some chedda

When I can come home and jack off

To some old school rap videos by Salt-N-Pepa

Catch you broke kids on radar

I see you on the beacon

Come to your house and just punch your beak in

Me and Vicious Stevens dump your body in the deep end

(Stupid motherfucker)

You got caught tryin' to peak in

When your little sister masturbated to me speakin'

I freak the industry

Stay on my job

Motherfuck a gun butt

I’ll give you a gun job

Now you need Sponge Bob to soak up blood clots

Yeah

Me and Majik the tag team of rap

Toe taggin' your team it’s a wrap

Your grandma is gettin' clapped

(You let the guns rumble?)

Nigga I’m Spice-1's stunt double

Sprayin' flames at your grill until your face bubbles

Demonic aroma therapy

Burnin' flesh and kerosene

Groundin' your brains inside of canned hams with yams and beans

And it seems your studio is my bathroom stall

Come through rockin' a pea coat and piss on y’all

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