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Princess Superstar

Who Writes Your Lyrics

  electronic  hip-hop  rap  female vocalists  hip hop
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Текст песни Princess Superstar - Who Writes Your Lyrics

Princess Superstar - Who Writes Your Lyrics слова песни

[Verse One]I`m the flyest MC the finest MCThe nicest MC oh that`s boring see, there`s another MPCSo why you think most hip-hop sounds the same except for me?Cryptic kick shit from the cryptSadistic lick hits with wit I`m quickRip crickets in a wicket I`m plain wickedThick in the rig wearing kid lipstickI wreck shit on the next shitSpit it in ya ear bit like a Q-TipBig silly bitch wickedy witch lickety splitin a sitch no dick but talk big carry a big stickSo I`m a girl, yeah I`m whiteAnd I write all night with a bare swingin lightOn the computer alright a producer alrightI produced this songSo you know who you are you know you were wrongNo I was not in that porn "On Golden Blonde"Got it goin on more James Bond than Sean JohnConned James Cahn for a ticket to CannesAnd I Love Ferris Bueller like tchhickachickkaa[Whispered Hook Repeat 2x]Please don`t ask me who writes my lyricsI`ll spit up in your face much faster than you could hear it[Verse Two]Don`t ask me who writes my lyricsDamn ya you`re enamored I`m a slam yaHotter than your can down in AlabamaWhere`s my camera I need a Kodak momentof the moment I made you feel like HammerSon of Sam? I`m the daughter of SamSlaughter a man on the microphonePardon me ma`am was that part of a manor your son I just whipped on the mic and sent homeBig quick shit New York- StockholmKike and a Wop Wipin a cockWalkin the block drop ya jaw to jock to your sockI get that a lot yeah stop take stockShhh let me show you what I gotMade up my mind- like made it up I imagined itI don`t got a mind I abandoned it in a cabinetSo I could be a candidate for writin a few hitswalkin a few pits and cashin in on that shitI put out my first tape in `94 if you got one, I`ll buy itI don`t got one no more it was called Mitch Better get my BunnyThat shit was shitty but funnyI admit it was dumb but I did it with no moneyIn 9-5 my first CD called Strictly Platinumbut it didn`t go Platinum it went back to themAnd instead of waitin for someone to put me onI started a label ran it `til the money was goneThen came along, then was goneMoney money money, don`t try to make it with your songsBut like Salt `n Pepa in El Segundo we push it along (Push it!)And then Fat Beats wouldn`t take my last LPSo I got egg beaters threw em back at the backpacks on 6th Ave. passin meAt the Bagel Buffet planted a bomb next to GraysAnd when the records rained I sold `em back for double to Fat Beats in LAIt`s all OK cuz when Fat Beats still wouldn`t distribute my recordI renamed it-Pharoah Monch featuring Chubby CheckerHa ha mic wrecker don`t sleep, Princess Superstar - The shit is deep

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