ain't doin' nothin' - sylent lyrics
ain’t doin’ nothin’
published by: middle finger recordz (2003-2019)
produced, written & recorded by: sylent @ the padded room, norwalk, ca
mixed & mastered by: steve viciouis @ san diego, ca
lyrics:
(intro)
lil pig, lil pig. let me in. let me in. not by the rollz on your chinny-chin-chinz??? whoz this for??? [let ‘em know]
this iz for la pansa
this iz for la pansa!
(1st verse)
this iz for la pansa / fat f-ck / yeah, thatz you / frost
out with the old / in with the new boss
herez two shotz to break that ice
your last hit was when you beat your wife
’cause salez died down after eazy left ya
and labelz pimped ya like a leva
on hit a l!ck / you didn’t have no hitz
the only l!ck you did was on your ceoz d-ck
trying to get your son scoop deville up in the game
but ‘like father, like son’ / his mic sk!llz were lame
so go and face it, grandpa / your time iz over
faster than your little scene in ‘mi vida loca’
a soca / collecting no royaltiez
‘cause you keep getting punked for free cdz
grandfather of latin rap / you’re too old
if itz really for ‘la raza’ / let the truth be told!
(chorus)
all you do iz talk the talk
go ahead and talk your sh-t, motherf-cker
but you ain’t doin’ nothin’
all you do iz talk the talk
go ahead and talk your sh-t, motherf-cker
talk your sh-t, motherf-cker
all you do iz talk the talk
go ahead and talk your sh-t, motherf-cker
but you ain’t doin’ nothin’
all you do iz talk the talk
go ahead and talk your sh-t, motherf-cker
talk your sh-t, motherf-cker!
(2nd verse)
the gente sent you demoz and you stole ideaz for your rapz
so f-ck you and any other fool that got your back
thought you’d get rich quick but nothing happened
we left you on stage with the same song / rappin’
so many yearz p-ssed by and you’re still there
you’ll probably rap ‘la raza’ till you’re in a wheelchair
senior citizen cutting couponz for dennyz
‘big boss’ frost scr-ping up penniez
voice all pghlemy everytime you try to rap
arthritis in your trigger finger / homie, you can’t blast
hoping you don’t flatline / cardiac arrest
getting wrinklez in your sn-tch that are matching your dress
with two big breastz sagging down to your kneez
selling all your sh-t on instagram like itz a swapmeet
i’ll melt you and your denturez when i incinerate ya
should’ve known you were a biter ever since the day they named ya [frost bitez]!!
(chorus / 3rd verse)
playing bingo iz how you should spend all your weekendz
instead of rapping / sh-tting in your dependz
gray hairz all up in your cornrowz
if rap doesn’t work / you can try granny p-rno
acting like a pimp but you ain’t sh-t, grandpa
you can’t even f-ck a b-tch without taking v–gr-
try and deny what you did and you’re in trouble then
don’t make me put a f-cken fist up in your double chin
take it like a man and admit that you done that
you probably thought that this sh-t would never come back
but it did / lil piggy / so face it
mistakez all up in your past / you can’t erase it
you stole from the same raza that you rap about
claiming that you love ‘em but, leva / you just love yourself
you sold out for a little bit of chump change
f-ck pig frost / you ain’t nothin’ but a punk lame!!!
(chorus / outro)
what iz time??? time iz what pig frost needz to spend on a treadmill instead of spending all his time at king taco. breakfast time. brunch time. lunch time, dinner time. your time iz up, motherf-cker. i’m the last don standing! this iz for la pansa. whatz this fat motherf-cker oinking about on the mic??? you got a problem with what i’m saying, you know where to find me. i’ll be waiting. and ms. piggy better not send another messenger to do his dirty work. you can approach me your d-mn self. and if any of you motherf-ckerz listening right now are frost groupiez, you can let ‘em know… sylent said it! itz time to let the people know the truth. no subliminalz. i’ll say it out loud. f-ck pig frost! rewind that sh-t. f-ck pig frost!! put it on repeat. f-ck pig frost!!!
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