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the reavers - dusted (dirty) lyrics
the reavers (ft. karniege) – “dusted”
[produced by nathaniel roberts (aka melodious monk)]
[intro: karniege]
do it ‘til you get it right, boy. let me tilt the brim again. listen
[verse 1: karniege]
when the light goes out, it be dark inside
cold in the room, making it hard to write
turn the heat up, trying to thaw my thumb (what else?)
index, middle, ring, and pinky
then write something that’ll slaughter the drummer boys
spill flows out that be sort of kinky
it’s 6 am. pardon my morning thinking
silver dollar nipples break through breasteses
autographed and tagged on -ss and necklaces
no question, kid. this mood is kind of rude
dead a gutter cat, leave him spooked in chinese food
want to place a order? (don’t even try me, dude)
been doing it since the ending of ‘92
beginning in ’93 with a grimy scene
back then, find me teenage with a street name. next
cyphering and fighting with ident-ty crisis
got a weird, little schizo that’ll hear tiptoes
creeping in the shadow, speaking all wacko
a group of your schoolmates laughing like jackal
but son sweeping brooms, the king, the castle
plus his wonder woman, hah, swing her l-ssos
[hook: karniege]
you, you must
be dusted. putting out wack only get you
on crutches, beaten out with bats, bottles
and buckets. tell me, son, ain’t that
some dumb sh-t? you, you must
be dusted. saying that’s hot? not. it’s
disgusting. you need to hogtied
or m-ffled. on the streets where n0body
loves you. it’s pathetic
[verse 2: karniege]
you feel me now? wet mics with a milky style
anthrax flow that’ll straight k!ll a crowd
been about, damaging cliques with language i spit
snapping her vertebrae, cracking her ribs
crushing her skull with no muscle involved
with mind power, shower and devour them all
since when you became a thug, black?
fabricating hired hands, hugs, rats, and clutch gats
the bullets stay in ‘em, pop off like hubcaps
in your ears, there’s voices telling you to plug that
sounds like a good idea. why would i care
what i spit out of mouth and put in your ear?
as long as i got jewels that be flooding my wrist up
money money galore and plenty of b-tches
listen here, dude. i’m mad at what you spit, splatter dogs
get a catalog big as dinosaur footprint
[interlude 1: karniege]
that’s how i’ll be squishing you rappers
[hook: karniege]
you, you must
be dusted. putting out wack only get you
on crutches, beaten out with bats, bottles
and buckets. tell me, son, ain’t that
some dumb sh-t? you, you must
be dusted. saying that’s hot? not. it’s
disgusting. you need to hogtied
or m-ffled. on the streets where n0body
loves you. it’s pathetic
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