歌曲 | Retarded Fren |
歌手 | JJ DOOM |
专辑 | Key To The Kuffs |
An honest day's work for an honest day's pay | |
Stay taking wages the anonymous way | |
Calmish | |
Pay to the Amish selling | |
Promise me gold brawn, palm itch swelling | |
With no “tack”, tho | |
Ipso facto | |
Wondering in pictures why his lips is so black, yo! | |
No question | |
An ounce of prevention | |
Is more than a pound of raw cure pure intention | |
Attention! | |
No throwing stones at the homeless | |
Or else ye' yourself may end up with your dome blessed | |
Chrome dust, nano-sized particles | |
Stop telling codes through the YouTube, retarded fools! | |
Defeats the purpose | |
Greedily slurp up the surplus | |
And burnt puss | |
And so nervous, you can shirt must gush | |
Hush, hush. Trust | |
Villain til' the Earth crust bust | |
Self-defense, think he's not real | |
Up until you blink twice and feel the hot steel | |
Take it how you want it | |
Fake it or flaunt it | |
Need to put some brakes on it | |
Shake it, dog-gone it! | |
Dead drop | |
Leave it right there | |
Chop it off, heads bop | |
Breath it like the air | |
You hear? | |
Study the devil | |
Played the game and choose to deuce her on a bloody level | |
Who sent him? | |
Steady losing momentum | |
Ol' who'll eat a rapper one-a-day like Centrum | |
The mask is like a Gundam, dumb-dumb um | |
And don't matter where you come from, you bum! | |
What happens when the poles shift? | |
Won't matter for shit. Who you roll with? | |
Cold and stiff | |
Hold the if | |
If incase you need a facelift | |
Sold a gift | |
Rip it like space time foam, fold the rift | |
The sun still shines in the morning | |
He ain't promised you more, but it's definitely scorching | |
Like an iceball, off guard, soft, hard | |
Ask him do he give an F like report card | |
Out-spit em' like Jona | |
Add bonuses, intel suggests they had no cojoneses | |
On this microphone business, it's slaughter | |
That's on his 3 pre-mature daughters aortas | |
The thoughts was a quarters, halfs, wholes | |
A roll | |
And good times sold like good dimes | |
It's just begun to began to begin | |
To end, to start back again for smarter men and women | |
And their forgotten retarded Fren |
An honest day' s work for an honest day' s pay | |
Stay taking wages the anonymous way | |
Calmish | |
Pay to the Amish selling | |
Promise me gold brawn, palm itch swelling | |
With no " tack", tho | |
Ipso facto | |
Wondering in pictures why his lips is so black, yo! | |
No question | |
An ounce of prevention | |
Is more than a pound of raw cure pure intention | |
Attention! | |
No throwing stones at the homeless | |
Or else ye' yourself may end up with your dome blessed | |
Chrome dust, nanosized particles | |
Stop telling codes through the YouTube, retarded fools! | |
Defeats the purpose | |
Greedily slurp up the surplus | |
And burnt puss | |
And so nervous, you can shirt must gush | |
Hush, hush. Trust | |
Villain til' the Earth crust bust | |
Selfdefense, think he' s not real | |
Up until you blink twice and feel the hot steel | |
Take it how you want it | |
Fake it or flaunt it | |
Need to put some brakes on it | |
Shake it, doggone it! | |
Dead drop | |
Leave it right there | |
Chop it off, heads bop | |
Breath it like the air | |
You hear? | |
Study the devil | |
Played the game and choose to deuce her on a bloody level | |
Who sent him? | |
Steady losing momentum | |
Ol' who' ll eat a rapper oneaday like Centrum | |
The mask is like a Gundam, dumbdumb um | |
And don' t matter where you come from, you bum! | |
What happens when the poles shift? | |
Won' t matter for shit. Who you roll with? | |
Cold and stiff | |
Hold the if | |
If incase you need a facelift | |
Sold a gift | |
Rip it like space time foam, fold the rift | |
The sun still shines in the morning | |
He ain' t promised you more, but it' s definitely scorching | |
Like an iceball, off guard, soft, hard | |
Ask him do he give an F like report card | |
Outspit em' like Jona | |
Add bonuses, intel suggests they had no cojoneses | |
On this microphone business, it' s slaughter | |
That' s on his 3 premature daughters aortas | |
The thoughts was a quarters, halfs, wholes | |
A roll | |
And good times sold like good dimes | |
It' s just begun to began to begin | |
To end, to start back again for smarter men and women | |
And their forgotten retarded Fren |