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charles hamilton - headaches كلمات الأغنية

ayo, the beat says it all, n-gga, shut up and rap. consider me jerry, b-tch, i’ll f-ck up your cat. f-ck the track, why must i do it? higher than climbing fluid. this my rain off of my brain. name of the song is ‘headaches’ and i’m feeling the migraine. i’m doing my thang. all these n-ggas using my slang! doo doo i slang at them n-ggas, sh-t on tracks and p-ss rivers. everybody drinking it they’re like miss rivers, joan. i give these n-ggas a loan and these n-ggas want to move out of my home, i’m alone. but f-ck it, i pay rent, n-gga. stay here and stay and hear my vent, n-gga. stay clear, stand clear. y’all n-ggas is closing doors and y’all remain queer. the difference is an a and i. allen iverson on a track, i’m staying as fly as that n-gga would when he had a 3 on. but to me he’s a peon. n-gga i get more b-tches than leon p-h-e-l-p-s. c-h-a-r, spitting like your favorite sh-t and i’m unhealthy, yes. cause y’all n-ggas is like aids and y’all wish to spit my way but [it’s a…] h to the izz-a, m to the izz-i, for shizzle my nizzle and you can say i’ve been white. i’ve been doing my thing no ben white in my nose, benny, popping my bennies. ‘all call them xannies. y’all want to f-ck with these trannies. fine, yo, just give me my granny. f-ck the b-tch raw then give me my grammy. vocal trainer, of course a brainer. whoa, why am i going so hard with incest? dog, i got so many scars within my chest, mufasa couldn’t do a dude proper. holler at my simba. last song, remember? oh man, my sense of humor. feeling like master splinter f-cking with these turtles just to make you kick -ss, and then what? nothing, shred them, then i behead them. hold on, i don’t mean dead them. i mean have them sitting there giving me extra credit. um, you got a credit card? i’m the black on the back. i black on the track and ask you for cash, n-gga. consider it debit. doing my thing i’m a lyricist’s fetish. y’all want to bite? go ahead, that’s s and m. c-h-a-r and i’m better than them. l-e-s like the lower east side. going in three times on each vibe, but this is take one and i can take one of the baddest b-tch and treat her like glake one. i mean jake one, pardon me, but i glow. such a psycho psychic, i know. but all the things i know get denied when somebody want to holler at me 60 times. all this sh-t in this non-written rhyme? sounds like a nas-written rhyme. great storyteller but the beat says “shut up and rap!” so what the f-ck’s up with that? suffering succotash, n-gga, i’m so animated. hamilton is far from antiquated and you hate it. yeah, 24, this year, 25. i’ma come alive then run it with my vibe, n-gga. like the cover and sh-t. governor sh-t, on some government sh-t. broads want to be sucking my d-ck. i’m like i ain’t wash it and i nut like a faucet. no farrah. no one is better no one is fairer but all y’all just chatter. one punchline is laughter. richard pryor/richard nixon, either way i’m badder. radder, index and a pinky, holding two down because they respect and they think of me. so who’s bigger, who’s shorter? i don’t know but i’m a n-gga, go figure. who’s a moorer, n-gga? y’all n-ggas are sodom and gomorrah. sodomize gomorrah cause i’m out of my mind and i’m going out of this time so i can go in the torah, cause i can see an h at the end. see h at the end of everything, kind of like ‘b-tch.’ how many n-ggas bit my flow? do you like this sh-t, b-tch? i don’t, cause it’s just a love thing. and what the f-ck is up with this love thing? either i’ma find a chick to be cuddling with or my cunnaligus is gonna be on this microphone thing and i’m a g*nius. like, you don’t even believe i’m spitting right now, i’m at zenith. looking at the mic too. bout to go ham on these n-gga like “hike, two!” i break your life down like a haiku: seven plus five plus seven, i don’t like you. so doubt it, n-gga. that’s charles plus sonic charles, and i’m the biter of douthit, n-gga? yo, check out my outfit, n-gga. i’m not gothic i’m simply [inhaling sound], n-gga. inhaling y’all n-ggas. chewing em up then getting away [backing away from microphone]. cause i’m impaling y’all n-ggas. all, sarah palin, y’all n-ggas. little white b-tches who like getting third-railed in your -ss. and that’s a punchline from far, n-gga. hardest n-gga from the yard, n-gga!

- charles hamilton

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