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crocodiles - rodan lyrics

rodan * “crocodiles”
[emcee(s): rodan]
[producer(s): [?]]

[verse 1: rodan]
motherf*ckers claiming to be the best but barely nice
they sold a few millions of records, so what the f*ck sold to vanilla ice?
[?] once but rarely twice. looking for a stable date
running through central booking with a label*mate
better find a may coach, get some player help. i
keeps it moving, f*ggots stay in motion like conveyer belts
due to numbers and due to the economy, it’s written in deuteronomy
lamborghinis and b*tches in bikinis, a wh0remonger
f*ck happened to the war on hunger? guess drugs
won in the end. find me smoking in the den, but i ain’t
never going out like gunga. spark the ganja, hard head
made for a tender ass. you sweet like pendergrass
then i bend the craft—surrender the stash—sn*tch up
[?] cash, reach the end of the task. return
to sender fast. pick a winner? your dinner’s trash
never said never, always ready to get that cheddar
born to be king like nebuchadnezzar
this is my town, and you at the wrong end, c*cksucker
you better have a strong chin. plantation rappers?
prepare to get gone with the wind. it’s ‘bout
2:45. jumping on route q45
keep those closets closed or you will get exposed
by rodan the warrior. f*ck opening up bones
f*ggot, here, i got some news for ya
some new gloom for ya, some new tunes for ya [?]
melanin, i sing a blues tune for ya [?] sand dunes
or balloons in the foil with the tune to destroy ya
pugilism be brutal and beautiful like mayweather
música de la hoya. welcome to the mutilation
of uncle sam and uncle tom sawyer. it’s essential
so sensual, kind of seductive trying to build
a foundation where fools usually end up being
more destructive and counterproductive. grounds buried
under mountain of corruption. read the sign
you c*ck*sucking, maggot illiterate. kingdom of god
still under construction. live life on the run
attend a knife fight with a gun—that’s my type of fun
transport this product on borderlines, carry, crossover
like allen iverson, attack hard
f*ck the frontcourt—coward, we’re waiting the backyard
went from living off of modest means to being the hottest king
with a lot of green, the hottest thing you ever seen
by any means necessary via whatever means
stormy weather team, cosmo [?]
forever clean [?] fetish leather dreams
red*letter jeans, lettuce, fettuccini, and beans
the cheddar and the cream, legacy to the dream like
coretta king. it’s rodan, b*tch. f*ck you gonna find
better wings? if it’s holistic, it ain’t never
two separate things. cut your life short like the
career of kevin federline. while you got your face
looking all funny, i’m out here from long island
to okinawa, getting all this motherf*cking money. i’ll be
godd*mned if i surrender. we could take it to war like
samurais and ninjas, my n*gga. uh!
k!ll a gangsta!

- rodan lyrics

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