Half-Cocked Concepts

Lyrics

First of all, Fuck Bush
 That's all, that's the end of it
 Second, give it up to R.S.E. for hookin' up a kid
 I got the two best, the newest plus the truest;
 Doomtree, Rhymesayers Entertainment (You know the name!)
 Rip the quality control, from your burrows to your borders
 Droppin' hot emcee's off balconies like Tony Rocky Horror
 The, uh, the baby-danglin', words hanglin'
 Hottest masturbatin' off the back of the neck of my soldiers' rhyme and
 P.O., you know the dirty one disturbing categories
 The matador in black, killin' bullshit allegories
 Provide the hurt, these other beastly storing stories make em'
 Get Up
 Get Down
 Get Up
 And Get Fucked Up
 I spray terms like throw-ups,
 I'm 'bout to spit a feelin'
 Cuz me and Turbo Nemesis are soon to be arthritic villains
 Still instillin' hatred,
 Laced with manifesto modes
 And our back beat's to beat your heart beat off beat
 Let's go
 Excuse me
 Just turn it on, and leave it runnin'
 Macin', nothin' of gunnin'
 Nothin' linin' our pockets
 We frontin' like Cool Runnings
 Somethin' so simple sparkin'
 We wait, but nothin's comin'
 Chrome in our fingertips, they eat shit, like faulty plumbin'
 Just games for days, busy bees makin' our honey
 And skee ball tickets still on count, it's real money
 It's somethin' so ridiculous,
 Funny, so fuckin' sick of this,
 Consistent lack of vision from children claimin' they listenin'
 Still I'm sittin' skits and laughin' while they all missin' this
 There's still songs about bitches, from 9/11 witnesses. (ha ha)
 So here I am in the Middle West
 The heart land ma' fucka
 Sippin' whole milk ma' fucka
 Our nights are colder right?
 Minnesota nights, but our frost-bitten fists
 For the smile stings twice so um,
 Fight or Flight
 Who gives a damn anyways?
 So make a fuckin' difference in these apathetic names
 (I tell 'em)
 Lean back, just relax, we tell 'em
 Get Up
 Get Down
 Get Up
 And Get Fucked Up
 We don't dance, we just pull up our pants, and then we,
 Get Up
 Get Down
 Get Up
 And Get Fucked Up
 (What, you want something like a cake? Want a Guinness or somethin'?)
 Get Up
 Get Down
 Get Up
 And Get Fucked Up
 Somethin' so ridiculous,
 Funny, so fuckin' sick of this,
 Consistent lack of vision from children claimin' they listenin'
 You look sick, homie eat a gun (I tell you (haha))
 I'ma eat a gun
 I look tired
 It's probably the insomnia
 I sleep like Tyler Durdan
 STICKIN' FEATHERS IN YOUR ASS DOES NOT MAKE YOU A CHICKEN!
 Holla if you hit the bottom runnin'
 A fool among the scholars
 Bumpin' somethin' about clubs, bubs, and hubs
 I got a message in a bottle
 Written in gas and oil
 Signed with a rag and a match
 Here Catch!
 Slap to rebel yell
 The rebels fell, embedded in brick
 Ain't no fuckin' marble memorial
 For pissed-off kids waitin' for desperate shicks
 Like Bronson, ain't got enough to flip his face to vigilance again
 Once it has been, the fifth amends
 Barely our friends, who think about what's up with Jen & Ben
 Once it has been (I think we should put up in this-Fuck outta here!)
 Let's get out
 Lean back and relax, we tell 'em
 Get Up
 Get Down
 Get Up
 And Get Fucked Up
 Put the ma' fuckin' Fresca down
 Get Up
 Get Down
 Get Up
 And Get Fucked Up
 (Damnit with the blood!)
 Get Up
 Get Down
 Get Up
 And Get Fucked Up
 Somethin' so ridiculous,
 Funny, so fuckin' sick of this,
 Consistent lack of vision from children claimin' they listenin'
 

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
03:45
Tempo
92 BPM

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