Kurupt - No Feelings Lyrics
Chorus 2X: Nigga I don't got no feelings What the ***** you think this is I got no reason to live So make your mind up what you want to do I make your family be missing you Yo dusting you off like dirty fingerprints on evidence Battling me you dead like presidents I'm fresh like prince jazzy like jeff The man just like Meth crazy like Lep Plus jams just like Def With a pin I'm a king like Kurupt When I throw a style, you better duck And if you don't your ass is out of luck Don't ***** with the master if I have to Then I blast you, then go to Church and see my pastor Why you have to be like this, me and the mic's tight Like lettuce, lighting the pimps This year my son turned six If your style's wack then you need to get that shit fixed Brothers hittin Jersey, my raps hitting harder than bricks I'm iller, willer than your local drug dealer Come to my villa, meet the 9-milla Letting off, where I stop you getting off Make you feel it just like Latifah's kiss in Set It Off You want war come on, put on the boxing gloves People call me an artist on the canvas cuz I draw blood That's what's up with the shit I maneuver Hit the losers with a Lueger then lay up in Aruba I'm gonna be rappin till you mutha*****az get sick of me on the M-I-C I'm sicker than ten niggaz with HIV Tracey, pack the chico, the freak though Holding heats and we're in wall street With Sloppy Joe, you feel me yo? Chorus: Uh what check it, my name is Steven I eat MC's for no apparent reason Better you if you skeezin, I'm pleasing Those who dare, I advise you not to stare You be ass out like a flat tire without a spare I declare war before I have to even a score You got me hot like sand on the shore I'm running the floor like a ballerina I go back like Flavor Flav and comb Adina I get honeys to make you say "You seen her?" I'm pregnant but only in my mind Hopin my baby rhyme grows to be a triple platinum album A felon, using the steel to do crimes Smoke so many niggaz they put up no smoking signs Charismatic, gasmatic, ballin like Madden Cream automatic, attractive like a magnet Speeding like car racing, cream like carnation Burn out my Playstation while cats be scarfacing Hey old lady sorry's all I can say My bills got me looking in pocket books in a different way Foxy in the boulevard Benzo I'm in the back of Kurupt's flex truck playin 64 Nintendo Kurupt: Gettin pealed, skills and it feels Raw doggs, raw deals, niggaz either ill, fake, or real Penetrates, own the 10's and 38's Ridahs and niggaz turn the states and flippin crates Get lift like weights, bust and radiates Spreading infection, murderous mafia connections I want it felt, touch life's villains Start drilling, start ampin out Hitting them with autos campin out With autos innovative, calculative, creative Touch a nigga, hectic, with a couple of seconds to bust nigga From a distance, I could peep a ***** up You want to have but nuttin but cash to get stuck up Man I'm diamonds, yo, God is nice Hot, never seen cats with so much ice I got blocks to get all that's got behind the scenes Sellin glocks, tech 9's, 16's and magazines
