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Correct 6 Minutes Of Shame Lyrics
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SickTanicK
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Correct 6 Minutes Of Shame
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Lyrics:
I've got a 1000 plus units hanging off my belt You've got a 1000 plus vibrators up on your shelf Feel special little faggot that I even dropped this Cause you ain't getting one single cent or profit I'm your worse nightmare The devil in the flesh This be a fight to the finish A battle to the death Once again I'm triumphant while you're living in a dream And I'd have to bring you glasses to see me You wanna be me I know that you're hurting And you won't live forever cause your death is certain And while I'm laying back at home Fucking the finest of bitches You're busy sucking dick off for some wrestling tickets You wanna talk hip hop and punchlines Well ask your boy about a punch bitch because he caught mine That wasn't no cheap shot We were face to face So tell me bitch, how the fuck does my fist taste? And while you sit at home scared under covers I'm outside of your house jacking off to pictures of your mother And then I'll switch and jack off to my own Yo, my mom might be dead But you still suck on the microphone [Chorus X2] Everybody wanna hate what they didn't create, But I ain't going nowhere because I'm here to stay I'm here to stay I'ma keep it popping Keep the records dropping Keep them haters watching You're a clone and a drone, all alone Calling s** lines on the cell phone Cause you can't get your own And you're wife left you cause of lack of genitalia You're wife left you cause you're nothing but a failure [oh! ] And I really don't care what you faggots say I'll put you out like a cigarette in the ashtray And what's this about a order trying to stop me, shit! I'll cut yall up with this lyrical autopsy Gut you out, weigh your organs on a scale You can't stop the rise All you haters fail All you punk mother fuckers You will never stop me cause yall are straight bitches My philosophy is misogyny I come from the land of the South-West Getting dirty in the desert smoking all the finest sess While you bitches be hating trying to place bets On who will take me out I'm glad to know I'm in your breath [Chorus X2] Everybody wanna hate what they didn't create, But I ain't going nowhere because I'm here to stay I'm here to stay I'ma keep it popping Keep the records dropping Keep them haters watching All you myspace rappers please put down the mic And do something with your lives instead of wasting my time And keep spreading hate cause it's free promotion And if I suck so bad then what the fuck is the big commotion! ? I move units across the ocean While you new school killas on the myspace promoting And when did horrorcore become acceptable to Christians? I thought the Bible said plainly no killing? You fucking hypocrites Get your Bibles write your verses Yall some fake mother fuckers The wicked shit ain't for the churches There ain't no god that condones any violence So put down the mic And be good with the silence I'm dropping verses that be so hot They make the devil get down on his knees and wanna suck my c*** And some of the things I say may leave you shocked So in simple don't listen try that as a thought bitches Oh no here I go with another diss track But I won't drop names cause their shit is that whack I I stay intact with the paper while you concentrate on beef And you wonder why your records broken slain on the concrete You couldn't sell a record to a retard with millions I burn your rhymes up like the twin tower buildings I got legends on my label You're an unestablished artist Talking big about connects when your their favorite artist money target Little bitch, Little bitch that be me But this little bitch here is taking over your scene Everywhere that you go I know you're seeing my face How does it feel to be no one That you're a straight disgrace Don't waste no time And don't spit no rhymes I'd rather kill myself then hear you on the mic That's right, I said it And I hope my words embedded in your mind before I call al queda have your ass beheaded, were sitting here, talking lyrical supremacy the don perrion of the game you the hennessey Take a step down Let a real man spit I'm the leader of this new breed of wicked shit I built a single empire in about three years While you're playing with fire And burning down all your bridges Take notice and respect to my dialect I keep it all in check while you're still placing bets I cut cheques to my artists While you're checking out the telly got degrees in street hustle while your still on your ged Graduate then talk to me Until then imitation for you is the only key So keep buying, keep writing to increase your sales And you can sit and serve in heaven While I'm raining down in hell I dwell in an another underground Fuck a backpack I prefer another brutal sound A wickedness brought up by suicidalist The dawn of this mother fucking South-West wicked shit I never needed anybody in this rap game No radios, be jamming this killer everyday But you used up like an old meth pipe And with hair like that I should call you a Frisco dyke On the mic I drop bombs causing harm While you're masturbating and fantasise about my songs I'll smoke you out like a bong Weak bitch don't trip When I exhale the smoke your career ends quick I pack clipz full of lyrical slugs They penetrate and deform your face worse than it ever was, Get Proactive you drug addict bitch And I'm not from city of Compton But I still drop hits Underground 24 years old Making money off this music while your style runs cold Let me unfold, project and then manifest While you punch every bar cause you ran outta breath Don't step to me No disrespecting me I'll do you like cube did in no Vaseline Straight fucking the game with my soulless dick You can call me Sicktanick I fiend for the wicked shit
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