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chill rob g - black feet lyrics
[intro]
fire all lazers
like to bust- bust- bust with my trusty b-st-rd blaster
[verse 1]
i rip the fat beats while wack fleas take back seats
leave thirteen inch prints on backs with my black feet
[?] swift kick in the pants
if you call the tomb you better know the dance
advance to the inner circle and don’t make me hurt you
i still got mad issues that i’m tryin’ to work through
my virtue is virtually vanished
and that’s reality [?]
punks are pr-ne to panic, that’s technicality but
i rip the fat beats while wack fleas take back seats
leave thirteen inch prints on backs with my black feet
the heat that i generate is pr-ne to penetrate through
bones i damage straight through [?] and aggravate ya
very last nerve with my very fast [?]
i’m like [?] i have the very last word
you’s a nerd, do the [?], you deserve to be heard
or grilled or flambéed, i demand to be paid for my [?]
[hook]
get up on the mic
get up on the mic
get up on the mic
get up on the mic and start to recite
[verse 2]
since you expect me to check mics correctly
i smoothly move through these opponents like jet li
on [?], some get charged [?] strongly
some drink ’til they pants pee
some just quit, some just bleed
i see your future and you gonna need a shock absorber
funky as toilet water, they oughta call me slaughter
i see my future and for me it’s looking bright as ever
and i got midas treasure, i’m feelin’ light as feathers
but you can’t [?] me with a tractor or a team of horses
could be as jesus, make me [?] all these [?]
yeah, i know who the boss is
you just go count your losses
i’m like a doctor without benefit of college courses
i rip the fat beats while wack fleas take back seats
leave thirteen inch prints on backs with my black feet
i rip the fat beats while wack fleas take back seats
leave thirteen inch prints on backs with my black feet
[hook]
get up on the mic
get up on the mic
get up on the mic
get up on the mic and start to recite
[verse 3]
we bring the b-ss that may shake your [?]
reduce these weak dudes, i’m sour as [?] juice
and just as potent, i’ll crush you like odin
my content is constant, bombardment, opponent
what opponent? what is opposition?
i see no compet-ton when focused on my position
you wishin’ on a slaughter
follow where we are, but you’ll never fill my shoes
it can only bring you doom
crush you dudes in twos and threes, i [?] please
i don’t let ’em leave and i don’t let ’em breathe
you must be thinkin’ of another version, better me
but i’m the bad rob, the one that hack [?]
work long hours for low pay for fat slob
you may remember me
you may pretend to be fan or a friend
but it’s just a waste of energy
’cause i rip fat beats while wack fleas take back seats
leave thirteen inch prints on backs with my black feet
i rip fat beats while wack fleas take back seats
leave thirteen inch prints on backs with my black feet
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