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rob kelly - jack the ripper lyrics
tattooed in holy pictures but far removed from the scriptures
god flow i put the holy ghost in the listener
rob don’t take no back chat from no mister or mrs
i get you wrapped up like a christenin
i wet your head like your baptized
nowadays every body wanna play a bad guy
good actors telling mad lies
stick em in the ground like cat’s eyes
audi a4 with the big wheels
nice lingerie and some sick heels
i pour my ashes on a soundboy testin him
mad lyin like they used to run with krs and them
sinister rap put your head in your hat
hit your wifey on the neck leave her dead in your lap
i stay fresh like dougie up jump the boogie
in a pair of timberlands all tan like snookie
i don’t really think they want beef with the squad
i creep through the hills and i creep through the fog
i’m so out of control, my ego’s getting bigger
i’m k!lling this b-tch you can call me jack the ripper
(hey hey hey)
i said beef with the squad
i creep through the hills and i creep through the fog
i’m so out of control my egos getting bigger
i’m k!lling this b-tch you can call me jack the ripper
fresh ‘lo gear kicking stupid raps
on a motorbike like super cat
singing the ghetto red hot
in a 91 mazda with a ghetto head mot
i’m a dirty rap singer singin filth flarn flith
with a br-ss knuckle on me that would twist your lips
they can call you tommy two mouths, i’ll put the dude
out these rappers on my nerves pull their f-ckin tooth out
so play me sweet, get a cavity, i’ll have your front door
lookin like the f-ckin sons of anarchy
so have a think if you wanna go one call i send the bikers
to your door like dominoes
geronimo with the knife in me t–th put it to your neck when
your with your wife in the sheets
tell her big up big up, it’s a stick up stick up
dumb b-tches callin me i don’t pick up pick up
i don’t really think they want beef with the squad
i creep through the hills and i creep through the fog
i’m so out of control, my ego’s getting bigger
i’m k!lling this b-tch you can call me jack the ripper
(hey hey hey)
i said beef with the squad
i creep through the hills and i creep through the fog
i’m so out of control my egos getting bigger
i’m k!lling this b-tch you can call me jack the ripper
(scratching)
it’s the rap game jack dempsey jaw paw jigalo
head board going bam bam like bigelow
f-ck your little label and your bullsh-t single i been nice
since monie was in the motherf-ckin middle
saying monie where you at? in the middle i was little
still slept on cut the f-ckin pillow and the dribble
they say do a song with me rob boy you’re a bad man
no you won’t have rob in but you’ll get the bat man
f-ck snotty dude, you’re the lodi dodi crew
you don’t cos trouble and you don’t bother n0body you
don’t want it with bobby you get smacked in the face
and if i ever see you in public i’m catching a case
shook of no one you don’t instill terror in kel
a big b-stard plus i rap terribly well
kel terrible, your favourite dj gimme the replay
and you can’t even try to f-ck around with r.o.b – k
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