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illgod (nigeria) - show you something lyrics
[verse one: illgod]
born in the late 80s, depraved baby
“where’d you go ill?”, said gabriel
“str8 hades”
poppa was broke, so he had to compose self
when mom water broke, i was had in a closet
all wrapped at the door-steps as mom finished
the born sinner, the bar spitter
the rug wetted with prospects and long p-n-s
[oh boy chill with the cussed writtens]
expelled smooth but i didn’t really cry
a smack had me yelling like sindel in her prime
it was done so to confirm that i wasn’t a fish
ever since she conceived, mom was having these dreams
cr-ppy it seemed, but i grew to man not having a fin (hmmm)
a book-worm when i bore in one
math, poems, comics or a boring one
had tolls o’ dips under thunderstorms
with a little bit of quickie, eating biscuits undertone
or under one
[verse two: illgod]
little me, lost my virginity early
it was this, little chick lookin’ like the littlest fairy
her lips are very pearly like belle on the telly
a little older so was versed in the birdie;
and the bees
i was about nine, but chill and i’m a’ tell ya
we were alone and she revealed her genetalia
alas, l-ss l-ss my weenie did get buried
and in came an adult with a mean face to stop us
it was grim, like eustace’s ooga-booga mask
told a friend, “oh good grace, it was sugar sugar man”
brought me fame, ‘mong the mates and the unscrupulous man
they be like, “there he go, that’s sugar sugar man”
[oh oh]
listening to fuji on the gramophone
we’re all expected to cool it soon as grandma’s home
at moonlights, or whole nights she reciting poems
vocals closer to a baritone
but now, she’s probably old
[verse three: illgod]
used to doodle a lot
had an episode where bill revolts at the pyrrhic dome
and he shooting at cops
who could dare top the e’ pluribus unum in cl-ss?
albums ain’t original without the jigga man arts
or kev-d
lately, it was authe’, but merely perfect
“on the tracklistings are some tracks missing”
those were the heydays of a hip hop kid
did a little of the beat-boxing
‘fore i took the mpc for sampling these plastics collecting dusts
to let me buss these verse in (versine) ptolemy chords
its credulous; how dad is obsessive with the psalms
you get a lil’ headache? boy, you’re reading all the psalms
get a beating if you’re act rebellious
puerile, nonpareil
you rap? i bury you
with bars impeccable
i swear to god bruv, i miss my childhood;
where kids had their first names (uh) in a bible
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