Dilated Peoples - Search 4 Bobby Fisher lyrics | LyricsFreak
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Search 4 Bobby Fisher Lyrics

Dilated Peoples – Search 4 Bobby Fisher Lyrics

hard* to find white label but, 2 58:long on napster [intro

rakaa: iriscience] Yo
it's.. like this man Every
once in a while when motherfuckers pop off at the lip Somebody
get brought into this shit That
don't have nuttin to do with this shit right But?
none the less You
wanna start lettin off buckshots cats, gotta retaliate Y'all
callin out ev well? you got him [evidence]

a, blonde fag took my kindness for a weakness But
instead of comin hard threw a weak diss Twelve
of his friends at first I was speechless Is
it cause you lack pussy or lack uniqueness It's?
always your type itchy, and quick to bust off Ruin
the party "soliloquy, of chaos" In
this verse jumpin, jacks a little warm up There'll
be no bullshit there'll, be no hit chorus Diss
my crew yo? you, won't go far The
truth is I'm about as much from detroit as you are I'm
rackin up points shit, cat I'm scorin You
ain't a true tiger liar, you, from warren A
trailer trash town where daddy stuck it to ya That's
why you hate your mother cause she never tried to stop it Twenty
years later you're still out of luck I
met this chick you took home on tour but, couldn't get it up Alert
alert! you! internet geeks Eminem
is just like you weak, between the sheets Dr
evil. tryin, to steal my mojo I'll
fuck you up plus, look better in photos I
know what it is you, envy what you hate I'm
what you used to be you, was me in ninety-eight Hungry
for props and, ready to rock Except
your stage show is so weak you always just ready to rot Fuck
your pace walkin forth at best (at)
that rate on tour dates hope, you never run out of breath It's
such a shame your uncle ronnie's not listed I'm
a geek you? jock fred from limp bizkit Production
time I; heard you're makin beats But
don't program the drums don't, program the keys Don't
program the bass producer, liar? Doin!
that shit's like hirin a ghostwriter You
might as well you little fake chino xl You're
target practice - strictly blast these empty shells {
crowd*roar }*it's an upset you, lose the title But!
first lose the haircut you're, bitin george michael Next
topic time, to stick the knife in Slaughter
your {daughter} ah, fuck it throw your wife in I'ma
do 'em do, 'em 'til nothin left The
way I'm murderin you now they probably avenge your death You
blind bitch I'm, about to rub it in Go
sell millions of records you, still don't own your publishin You
ain't hip-hop you, pop extra; popular to little girls Kids,
and, the trenchcoat mafia So
here it comes a, blast from my crew You
bout to get chopped by a man named babu The
funniest part let? me say this 'fore I'm through I
haven't even begun to start I, saved the best for part two {

babu*cuts and scratches these samples }*"faggot

no, comp rapper on a quest" - ll> cool j "hi
"!- eminem> "bitch, shut the fuck up "!- eazy-e> "if
you take offense fuck it got, to be that way" - krs-one> "i
thought I oughta tell you better, yet warn" - mc> lyte "suckers
get eliminated fuckin with dilated" - cypress> hill "nevertheless
I'll, say it again" - slick> rick( )? "bitch
"!- n> w.a."soundclash.
with us you, flirt with disaster" - dilated> "trick

or treat "...
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