Testo Put Your Hammer Down - Funkmaster Flex
Testo della canzone Put Your Hammer Down (Funkmaster Flex), tratta dall'album The Mix Tape Volume III - 60 Minutes Of Funk - The Final Chapter
Lay your hammer (lay your hammer)
Lay your hammer, kid (lay your hammer, kid)
They want the drama, bring it to 'em, fuck 'em
All rise, meet the preacher, this pro-dula been diagnosed
Diabetic cleptic, I'm your host like the vanilla suede British
Staten Island mall menace
Otherwise, posing as a dentist in my lenses
Pinball machine gun rap, spoke to Arafat
Laundromat lady can't blow in this hat, what
Is it raw now? Change it around
It's war now, the final countdown commences
The battleground is 12 inches of wax paper
Breaking down your defenseless, senseless nature
Pain stings with 'Ma Baker
Twin towerin', I skyscrape ya
Kingdom come, meet your maker
Yo, another soundboy's dying, crowd noise multiplying
Don't let the fuzz slide in, bust out the sirens
Sure win, lure 'em in like exotic women
I smile with a sinister grin and finish 'em
You're fucking with hoods, get your goods pushed back
You fraud, pull the wool off your Hollywood act
Yo, the track melts, and half-lifters have to spray meaning
Supreme being, being all that I can be and
Picture wavy beavers, me cleaving your receiver
Fly Sonny Cheeba, leather buckets, dirty beeper
Fast floating grill, residential honey hill
Stainless steel ratchet, shiesty catching money bills
It's all gravy, we floating through like the British Navy
Fresh design lady, love the fade, keep it wavy
The mixed drink, throw the dick in the drink
Play it, baby girl, caught ya, exotic album, Cuban Link
Custom AVs, beige panties, who could front on these?
Please, y'all niggas broke, so what your uncle sell trees?
Yo, high-rank officials and armed tanks and missiles
Blood drizzle, simple fact you slept on the issue
That before you started jerking off joysticks to Sega
I make tapes, a hundred watt amps that's Cerwin-Vega's
RZA fine-tune it, shipped a mill units
MCs ask, "Who be those rhyme killers in masks?"
No doubt, difficult task to last in the square
Beware, infinite amount of darts is in the air
I'm victorious, no opponents and blast through components
And microphones, watch the whole world live the moment
Anythin' anti that came approachin' this
Incapable lust, speech remains motionless
Lay your hammer (lay your hammer)
Lay your hammer, kid (lay your hammer, kid)
Lay your hammer, fam
Push 'em up, everybody, push 'em up
Push 'em up, everybody, push 'em up
Push 'em up, everybody, push 'em up
And if you wanna make it hot, we make it rough
Push 'em up, everybody, push 'em up
Push 'em up, everybody, push 'em up
Push 'em up, everybody, push 'em up
And if we wanna make it hot, we make it rough
Credits
Writer(s): Clifford Smith, Robert F. Diggs, Russell T. Jones, Gary E. Grice, Lamont Hawkins, Dennis David Coles, Corey Woods, Jason S. Hunter
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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