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Song title:
Mindless Self Indulgence - Bring The Pain (New Wave)
Edit By:
216.73.216.79
I came to bring the pain, hardcore from the brain Let's go inside my astral plane Find out my mental based on instrumental records Hey, so I could write monumental methods I'm not the king but niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream Check it, just how deep can shit get? Deeper than your fist and brothers is mad pissed, accept it In your Cross Colour clothes, you crossed over Now you're totally crossed out like Kris Kross Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side And I'm the dark side of the force Of course, it's the Method Man from the Wu-Tang Clan I'll be hectic and comin' for the head piece, protect it Fuck it, two tears in a bucket, niggas want the ruckus So bustin' at me, son, now bust it Styles, I get buck wild, Method Man on some shit Fuckin' nigga's foul, son, I'm sick, insane, crazy Drivin' Miss Daisy out her fuckin' mind Now I got mine, I'm Swayze Is it real, son? Is it really real, son? Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real Somethin' I could feel, son, load it up and kill one Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real When I was a little stereo, I used to be the champion I always wondered when I will be the number one And now you listen to the gargon and the gargon summary And all you niggas come to test me, I'm gonna lick out your brain Mothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope 'Cause the only way you hang is by the neck, nigga, bump off a set Comin' through all your projects Take it as a threat or better yet, it is a promise Comin' like a vet on some old Vietnam shit Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar that I'm more shit And it's gonna get even worse, word to god It's the Wu comin' through, takin' niggas for their garments Movin' on your left, it's the Meth I came to represent and carve my name in your chest You can come, test, realize it's no contest, son I'm the gun that won that old Wild West Quick on the draw with my hands on the four Nine three eleven with the rugged rhymes galore Check it 'cause I think not when it's hip-hop like proper Rhymes be the proof when I'm drinkin' 90 proof Vodka No O.J., no straw When you give it to me, yeah, give it to me raw 'Cause I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight It burns enough to give my chest hairs a perm I don't need no chemical blow to pull a hoe All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the bitch Is it real, son? Is it really real, son? Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real Somethin' I could feel, son, load it up and kill one Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real Fuck the hoes, fuck the hoes Fuck the hoes, fuck the hoes Fuck the hoes, fuck the hoes Fuck the hoes, fuck the hoes Fuck the hoes, fuck the hoes Fuck the hoes, fuck the hoes
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