harry callahan - muneshine lyrics
the only reason i’m not gonna k!ll you, is because i’m gonna prosecute ya with your system
…it’ll be my word against yours. and who’s gonna be you? you’re a k!ller, harry. a maniac
a man’s got to know his limitations
[cuts, skratch bastid]
dirty… dirty harry, dirty harry, dirty harry, dirty harry
[verse 1, sonnyjim]
you’ve gotta hand it to me
i’ll turn this sh-t into a gangster movie
i’m on it like akaboozi
wood chipper, chop the tree in the savannah
lord of the manor
[?] vintage in my decanter
the flow’s off richter
get rolled up and thrown in the river
strength of a boa constricter
swagging in my pimp shades, cl-ssy in my mink cape
i got open like a valley girl at spring break
[?], underground boat builder
long john silver to a gold digger
spit the stone cold k!ller
it’s a stick-up, don’t move a muscle
i [?] pic-sso
plus, the brushstrokes are super subtle
sittin’ sideways like dondada
you let your fans watch your soap opera
i don’t let ’em know nada
pulling out the showstopper, road blocker
pro-shotta, dope shopper, globe trotting low rocker
rocking like a soul brother
[cuts, skratch bastid]
dirty… dirty harry, dirty harry, dirty harry, dirty harry
[verse 2, muneshine]
i don’t rap for nothing
but i’ll bust a few jokes in
mistake a beat box, but don’t know that’s you choking
with the goc i cross the blue ocean
rocking with a few chosen
lock, stock and two smoking
f-ck it
let’s discuss it in layman’s terms
what you spit, i ain’t buying
so i’ll break it first
out of spite? out of sprite, just obey your thirst
frequently the flyest through customs with a bag of merch
yours truly
[?] up in supreme
bacon, chives, sour cream
top’s off the poutine
top of the food chain
not after 2 chains
top off, t-tty bois
you lame
this is dirty harry rap
.45 calibre crunch
we hurt feelings
30 days [?] calendar month
[?]
pack a challenging punch
balboa sh-t, focus kid
[?]
just ain’t enough
[cuts, skratch bastid]
dirty… dirty harry, dirty harry, dirty harry, dirty harry
[verse 3, jehst]
you on the mic, that’s a karaoke sing-a-long
i turn a club to a church, mosque or synagogue
no comp, i k!ll ’em off
road block your venue
you
just the entrée
what’s next on the menu
i’m eating no matter what
sheets for the carrot top
lullaby
rock you to sleep in the carry cot
serve up the caviar
your bars are candy floss
you bite the hand that feeds
i bite the hand of god
i write my own book of genesis
if that sounds devilish
forgive me for penning this
but if i have to penny pinch, i’ll be a pessimist
type of outlook to push a p-ssy off the precipice
big book of recipes
holla me to prep the dish
when i’m cheffing it the peri-peri is imperative
that’s means i’m only serving up the pepper sh-t
deading a disease with penicillin on my pencil tip
[cuts, skratch bastid]
dirty harry, dirty harry
dirty harry, dirty harry
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