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burn - mr. voodoo 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

- mr voodoo lyrics

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