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kourt jester - step right up lyrics
[intro: kourt jester]
yo
we got kourt jester aka mckj
flatline of kamp crystal lake
and the one and only twisted insane m-th-f-cka
you step right up to this ring, you ain’t gonna like what’s gonna happen b-tch!
[verse 1: kourt jester]
spit this ignorant arithmetic, dolph ziggler with a bic, i’m flippin sh-t
never heard’a, no murderer, who spits 16 as cold as this
decapitate your -ssociates, other rappers ain’t holiest
they can never develop, they musta sewed they fallopians
these holy hits i be kickin, they shouldve been st-tched in enscriptures
stick my d-ck inside your mouth and get it mixed witcha liquids
but each word that the kid be rippin’ makes you shocked and visibly smitten
say that kourt jester be sinnin’, but god has said he’s forgiven
step right up to the ring, or the plate, or whatever the f-ck youre choosing
that sh-t ain’t gonna matter cause against these k!llaz youre losin’
next generation of rap, but i’m reppin’ the golden age
that’s why i’m somethin like royalty, when i step on that stage
flatline, mckj and that boy twisted insane
pick your poison m-th-f-cka, we inflictin’ the pain
the churches all fear us, we’re demons, we sick in the brain
step right up to the ring, it’s like -rs-nic in your veins
m-th-f-cka!
[hook: kourt jester]
step right up, come one come two!
hating on the style, well then, f-ck you
step right up, come one come all
3 slither spitters spittin’ venom at y’all
step right up, come one come two!
hating on the style, well then, f-ck you!
step right up, come one come all
the greatest show on earth
but for you it’s curtain call!
[verse 2: flatline]
hitting you like some crystal meth, i’ll give you rotted flesh
rigor flatline mortis, master of macabre, the pistol brings you death
i’ll lock you in my trunk, escape? i hit you with the heater
bodybaggin’ up all the body parts, when i hit ya with the meat cleaver
and dumpin’ ’em into lake erie, i’ll make the snakes fear me
tellin’ your grandma her grandbaby’s dead and sh-t, now she remains teary
you talk sh-t but your flows are f-ckin’ so-so
give me about ten seconds ‘fore i snap, and then go postal
i hit ’em up when i slit ’em up, with the machete swing it wreckless
turn your endtrails into jewelery like a necklace
pay the pied piper, crashin’ down like crumbled buildin’s
k!llin’ off the wack rappers of the world, then kidnappin’ your children (haha!)
it’s not a battle rap, i swing a f-ckin’ battle axe
step right up to this and turn the rumors of your death to facts
got a mask on, then i blast on, hourgl-ss and the sands gone
starin’ up at the roof of the church, your family sings a sad song
[hook: kourt jester]
[verse 3: twisted insane]
step right up to the plate, i’m murderin’ n-ggas with p-ssion
blood stains, f-ck ’em up ’till the slugs came, what the f-ck is you askin’?
make my escape in the night, i could’ve been off in the music
if i were to lose it, you would get murdered, and pull a machete, instead he finna use it
i’m finna have to get in ’em, when i spit venom like a cobra
if you would hit this l!ck, wonder what you get, then it’s over
i hit ’em with a little bit of black magic, like a crack addict off of cocaine
if you wanna feel that right there, step up, get dapped up, and feel no pain
i make that m-th-f-cka do backflips in his drawers with
daddy lookin’ at him, baby lookin’ at him, mama lookin’ at him, aw sh-t
step up and get pushed back, we don’t play that, i don’t hear you
it takes everything for me to not k!ll you every time i’m near you
i cut them all up on youtube, pick up all the pieces, put ’em in a trash bag
no sympathy for you m-th-f-ckas, just another sucka i’ma laugh at
i don’t really give a, he don’t really give a, she don’t really give a mad f-ck
step right up to the plate and you will get hit with some of that bad luck
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