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mr. voodoo - burn lyrics
agu (aka mr. voodoo) _ “burn”
[emcee(s): agu (aka mr. voodoo)]
[producer(s): havoc (original instrumental from mobb deep ft. big noyd and vita _ “the learning (burn)”)]
[intro: agu (aka mr. voodoo)]
yeah, yo, as we wind this up, we gon’ let n_ggas know. yo, step to me, you get burned. this rhyme sh_t? you get burned. plain and simple, yo. so as we f_ck with this mobb deep sh_t, we gon’ get into it like this. check it out, yo. yo
[hook: agu (aka mr. voodoo)]
sucker motherf_ckers, when will you ever learn?
keep playing with that fire and that ass’ll get burned
f_cking with semi_autos, your ass’ll get burned
we’re giving motherf_ckers something to be afraid of
sucker motherf_ckers, when will you ever learn?
keep playing with that fire and that ass’ll get burned
f_cking with semi_autos, that ass’ll get burned
we’re giving motherf_ckers… check it out, yo
[verse: agu (aka mr. voodoo)]
this sh_t is
dope, acid—hit it, pass it to the
next so they can get a taste. now has it
sunk in? then let them motherf_ckers sink in
before you step to me, do some strong thinking
act hyper, i attack the wack in rap cyphers. with raps, i’m
the piper. with gats, i’m the belt_waist sniper
four_fifths and five_o guns lift you, leave you stiffer
than levi’s 501—better hope 5_0 come. i’m
the general, i came and fought, got cuts and scars
criminal’s the train of thought, i’m in the conductor’s car
my brain should be called a convict ‘cause it’s stuck in bars. f_ck it, pa
when i buck at y’all, y’all hide in fright
my sparks is tight on the darkest night
an infrared beam is my guiding light
i came in the game with an afro, showed with no doubt i
had flow with the aim of muhammad and malvo
when i pop, let’s see who drop: ucos
pos, cos, and cops. n_ggas
telling me i’m what’s wrong with hip hop, but all i know is
sunrise, nightfalls, fights, brawls inside ghetto halls
liquor stores and churches, n_ggas get l!cked and sticked
in he_rs_s, so that’s what i kick in my verses
your clique versus my clique? in the end, it’ll be
your brain in your wife’s lap like john f. kennedy. my chrome
stop the haters (stop the haters). mentally
i stay on jack like telephone operators. shots
blast, and i commence the peeling. you’ll get shots
in your ass like you was getting penicillin
you’re children of a lesser god, ‘fessing hard. with
the smith & wesson, ride, i undress your squad. you’ll get
left scarred. men fall and drop when the four pop
burn like menthol, catch more victs/vicks than cough_drops
you’re soft, ock. don’t make me take you outside, clean
you up, lean you up, ar_15 you up
it ain’t hard to do—just release the sh_lls from the gun
this ain’t a barbeque, but i’m leaving beef well_done—that’s
it, y’all. i’m leaving beef well_done
this ain’t a barbeque, but i’m leaving beef well_done
[outro: agu (aka mr. voodoo)]
yeah, yo, that’s it (that’s it, son). word
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