Wednesday, July 7, 2010

i'm Moody(Rox)

Oh!
Time to front like pause
King of the boards
The high you want, I’m on
Long gone, I stunt like John
Cho, oh!
Punch my clock and it’s out the factory
Middle finger out to the faculty
Thank you for doubting what I have in me
Admiration from classmates
Cash I’m making, no salary
I’m that advanced, I could never be retarded
The youngest celebrity in the treasury department
Frappachino rappin’ havin c-notes in his p-coat
And the c on a beanie
Peep the seagull,
So ahead of my time you askin’
“Where did he go?”
Pyooom! Laser from a loser,
Sayin’ a 16, it’s a taser that’ll phase you from the future
Street vernacular, phrase ya from the sewer
If you can’t play her, sue her,
I’ma do her!

Hook:

I don’t know what you heard about me,
But ain’t nothin’ urban bout me
So go on, spread the word about me,
The Harlem mosh pitter is back!
Add it up:
The beat just (Rocks!)
The flow just (Rocks!)
My aditude (Rocks!)
My life just (Rocks!)
You don’t like it, kick (Rocks!)
You don’t like it, kick (Rocks!)
Cause this (Rocks!)


Verse Two:

Skatin’ barefooted at my Gramma’s
Thinkin’ of Grammy’s, bad bitches, and paparazzi cameras
Till I fall down like Donnie McLurkin,
I was probably hurt, but now the mommies is flirtin
Gotta be certain
Obviously blurtin’ the obvious is not workin’…
So I suddenly say “Get the fuck out my face!”
Cause I do what I want, and I’m stuck in my ways
Rub me the way you know is right, aight?
You know I’m bright, I’m close to nice,
But mean when I’m focused!
I shine on songs with my solo mic
When I’m on your broad, I leave her polo white
And I ain’t stoppin’ for no one
So popular, my God, I just swallowed my own cum
No homo
Now I see why the ladies can’t get enough
And if they spit it up, then they just kiddin’

Hook:

I don’t know what you heard about me,
But ain’t nothin’ urban bout me
So go on, spread the word about me,
The Harlem mosh pitter is back!
Add it up:
The beat just (Rocks!)
The flow just (Rocks!)
My aditude (Rocks!)
My life just (Rocks!)
You don’t like it, kick (Rocks!)
You don’t like it, kick (Rocks!)
Cause this (Rocks!)

Verse Three:

Hustlers, gangstas, rastas, rockers
Mobsters, doctors, cops and robbers,
Do what you have to do to grab for the loot
If you absolutely have to shoot, then pack up the deuce
And go Yabba Dabba Doo,
Yabba Dabba Doo
Yabba Dabba Doo
Yabba Dabba Doo
Yabba Dabba Doo
Yabba Dabba Doo
Yabba Dabba Doo
Yabba Dabba Doo
Girls, women, bitches, hoes
Ladies, kittens, chickens, ohs,
I gather you would rather do the rapper abusin’ the track,
But if I act as if I have no clue then catch an attitude, like (whoo!)
Then bring it like
Yabba Dabba Doo,
Yabba Dabba Doo
Yabba Dabba Doo
Yabba Dabba Doo

Hook:

I don’t know what you heard about me,
But ain’t nothin’ urban bout me
So go on, spread the word about me,
The Harlem mosh pitter is back!
Add it up:
The beat just (Rocks!)
The flow just (Rocks!)
My aditude (Rocks!)
My life just (Rocks!)
You don’t like it, kick (Rocks!)
You don’t like it, kick (Rocks!)
Cause this (Rocks!)


This has been a
Production

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