Текст песни Twiztid f Blaze Ya Dead Homie - Frankenstein
Twiztid f Blaze Ya Dead Homie - Frankenstein слова песни
[Chorus: repeat 2X]I`m not a clone, I`m a FrankenstienCreated through the visions of a mastermindThis face, this soul, this rhyme is mineBut y`all don`t know this... (Frankenstien)[Madrox]So what if I use jumper cables to kick start this retardedest brotherIn this music game of street smarts?Bitch, we been doing this since `9310 years in this so called, industryWhat I see is so many stars sucking dickWhat we be is something that`s truly flipping the scriptWhat y`all know is only what they provide you withA song is a song even if you call it a hitMy face is my property, painted of the night, wearing a maskWhatever I have or have not.. become is an extension of who I beAin`t nobody writting raps for meAnd basically, putting in mad workFor the little that we obtainedAin`t no plaques covering the wall with my nameBut my ever-growing family is spreading in massEnough to scare the shit out of your playa hating assAnd you still wanna call me a clone?[Chorus][Monoxide]You couldn`t play this kind of widespreadI`m sheddin` skins like chameleonsJust to keep up my disguises(Now I`m hearing that this is the only reason that the people play meBut they really hate me when my make-up`s off)You sound soft, gooAnd I`m gonna put in the words of the biaAnd maybe you`ll realizeThis ain`t a game, and I ain`t a cloneIt ain`t the fame, it`s the microphoneAnd all the family I`ve obtained over the yearsWho representin` for the same peers you keep hating and disrespectin`(Violent J put us up on the ground and said you gottakeep the axe on your waist at all timesIt`s a whole lot of people that`s just looking to shine)So just don`t worry about the haters just bring it from what`s insideSo this soul, this song, this rhymeIt`s the soul of your very own Frankenstien[Chorus][Blaze]Devil clones, what the fuck am I?A painted dead body, soaked in clothes from formaldehydeNotice where your eyes straight knock out teethAnd bring the heat to your dome, leaving some smoke in the streetKnocking the beat, knocking the flow, knocking your door off the hingesFuck you bitches and all you haters layin on the floor, fuck what you knowI`m playing baseball with hater`s dome and telephone poles, because I`m out coldTold me your dying, Blaze Ya Dead you know the restAnd it`s a motherfuckin` shame to catch a bullet in ya chestFor some shit you said when you was high and thuggin`Now the gats in your face and look who ain`t saying nothin`Your a fake yourself, and fuck your wealthAnd fucking with a Frankenstien is bad for your healthAnd you can put it on my casket and my fan basesThis 40, these nuts, and our painted faces[Chorus]