oh no (he's back) - fiyablasta lyrics
verse 1:
no one man should have all that power?
maybe cause all of ya’ll are cowards
i don’t know why you’re p-ssed at compet-tion
when at least you got golden showers
oh wait, my fault. forgot that ya’ll are beneath the
dragon. before my time were just petris
you tinysaurs can’t hang with the beastly
cause i’m eating meat and you are just t–thing
ha ha! so chew on this
cause i swear there’s food for thought in all the nuances
you tried to make your mark like tattoos drew on kids
but you’ll never forget my lyrical number two on this
and i don’t mean my pencil that was left in the restroom
where i’ve written hits, cause my schedule has no rest room
and every movement meant move
cause it’s your night to take the l; chess rules
verse 2:
i’m sl!cker than an oily chiquitas banana peel, that’s why you can’t catch me
and i’m quick to get the spoils by the heat i manage real wisely cause it’s deadly
ouch! think i got blister from the tongue twister. on fire, cause i’ma get you higher than chris tuck
diss us, then you’re gonna need surgery; nip tuck. then what? treat it like burglaries; get bucks
i’m a mercenary murking every person daring without some intellect
burned by my indirect flambe by hitting the music like fonzie
i spin in the jukebox while you’re sipping your juice box in your tube socks, and you’re hot? not!
you ain’t cold, you’re lukewarm while i got sting like all bees in two swarms
naturally, i have to be immaculately sick as if
i was a bathing cancer patient. can’t you smell that old spice soap scent?
just axe around, my style irresistible. your so called swagger is dismissible
get this, you fool. i’m back with a vengeance for you to witness spitting a full
blazing sixteen from the new generation with more to offer than big booties shaking
or going hard with shot through the heart cause only d-boys and gangsters drop bars
it’s the civilian k!lling the ‘phone in the dead zone that’s pr-ne to turn your chrome to cones
for ice cream cause i’ve been giving you brain freeze. i’m cold with no cure, and you’re a plain sneeze
verse 3:
sonic boom! i chuck that hot stuff
your trucks got to bump and dump all the junk cause you
got to tune now to me flipping scripts
and dip your hips to me ripping lyrics
penetrating perpetrating impersonations
of a certain nation whose motivation seems to be just to blow up
until i show up demonstrating a detonation
of a devastating antonym of procreation
that’s k!lling them rhythmically. sk!ll in him will be seen
finna be ending them, skinning them; dinner’s some award winning chicken fric-ssee pick a
delectable side of edible rhymes. incredible taste; a connoisseur
i’m running the place; entrepreneur. and you are a waste: pile of manure
wow! how mature of me? nah, how demure of me?
now someone order these wacks a thesaurus please
i spit at hating biters, repel losers by being hot
and sophisticating minds and revolutionizing thought and that’s smart
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