Dr. Dooom - Brothers Feel Fly Lyrics
Yo, I bought that album man, its wack manIm tellin you, I dont like itIma be honest manHonest?Im dead up, Im seriousSerious?I dont feel it man, the drums are too weakI dont feel the snaresCoulda used a different type of sampleYoure wack man, yeah..Yo, that kid is wack, his fathers wackHis group is wack, thats word word blackIm detrimental, I hop up on this instrumentalSmack your face with mitts, a pile of grease filled with gritsBurn you like teddy pendergrass, tap you on that assIm big jim, shut your mouth, call me jimmy steelDont freestyle, chemical bank, yall keep it realOn lollapalooza, their butts packed with german lugersOn tour dates, stashin mad work in milk cratesRock groups get smacked, speakers dropped, on they backSome damage Im raw, kid the blood is on your kneecapsLets get scuffed up, your castle more than roughed upPockets with royalties, you gets, no loyaltiesThats word bill, sell your houses mortgage off the hillIm for real necks, payin crackers for my ampexYeah!Its the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly)Its the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly)You got commercial records, no monies in your wack pocketsYou get jerked, my master-charge-cards doin workEight thousand grills, all these franklin heads, big head billsYou go head wrap balogna sandwich in yo backpackSchool kids up no joke on record labels, yall still brokeDont flex at me, whos this kid, standin next to meI got versatile sawed-off shotgun wic checks with meSuckers Im android, no time to feel paranoidBlow out your face, pull your skull back, now give me spaceMy wig is ready, disguised, ridin on the subwayBaldhead on 42nd street, down on broadwayWith tony lou, out of prison, my crew from rahwayThats word lou, Im in new york, Im here to see youCut back your weak tracks, and vomit on your vinyl waxIm here, like gladiator, air-conditioned centralYou smokin embalmin fluid, elephants are mentalI got dreams to wear your parts off your cash machineThats in the window me with bags, in the wells fargoChangin your incite, Im high class, with appetiteYou no comp, for roast pigs, I deleteYour style is neckbone, my cab rides by your streetYeah!Its the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly)Its the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly)I twist the bums out the project, elevator lights is outYall wanna step to phi b, big like the ? familyHoldin your ear, like you handicapped, you cant hearTouch up your young style delivery, dont appealFollow through, instructions easy for your rap crewThats word, that kid you rapped, sound like *****ooStinky feet, with razor bumps, tryin to rap on beatI cut your fog lamp down like meat, cut, by the poundHeather b, step to me, with your thin soundTwist your knobs, your engineer, mixed like baskin-robsYou on the charts, with just enough to pop tartsPublishin checks you signed off, you gets no respectYou gets to lease the benz, cryin loud with your wic checkNo sale retail, deposit all direct salesYeah! check itIts the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly)Its the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly)Its the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly)Its the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly)Yeah!Yeah.. styles.. retarded..Brothers feelin fly..
