Yeah motherf**ker.. that's right..
The motherf**ker in the house.. kool keith..
F**k all the bullshit, let's get to the real sh*t..
Yeah..
Your rhyme touch is soft kid
Like a stripper's a** with a touch of plastic
Writin with a local style
Talkin about competitive sh*t you never mastered
Youse a wannabe thug ni**a, you ain't bugged ni**a
I cut your b**ch-a** up, leave your legs under the rug ni**a
Who want the whiplash?
Cigarette burns, broken face hair pinned up in a cast
Me standin on the top of your tour bus
Butt-naked with a f**kin hockey mask
Slicin your cashmere with a sharp 7-up glass
Don't you know i'm sick ni**a? lick my dick ni**a!
Forty-four caliber killer gun-toter
Hide your kneecaps in a lexus motor
Pack your stomach in a compartment
Old dingy f**ked up bronx apartment
Don't piss me off with a tec-9 loaded in a b******t street argument
I don't care how hard you get
You just another man that never lived in the projects poppin sh*t
You ain't stoppin sh*t, f**k that batman and robin sh*t
And what block you with
Kneel down, make a ni**a like you call me big ernest
Bake your intestines, throw your stomach in the furnace
Watch the thermostat, you ain't no f**kin fat cat
Chorus: kool keith
[sung
You ain't no drug dealer
*repeat chorus 3x*
[kool keith
Rude bwoy with a temper like a jamaican off a haitian boat
Carribean ruckus - with an elvis wig
Slap the piss out of one of you untalented rap motherf**kers
Bodyguards won't work
With a 30-shot car bomb under my dominican shirt
Submachine in the duffle bag
Watchin sesame street with my daughter, peepin ernie and bert
With backstage passes, wearin a long trenchcoat
Get morris in your projects
And jackson in a madison square garden concert
Ready for cbs and nbc, to do a big network
The average guy, havin a product manager
And a female publicist wearin a f**kin bulletproof vest
I got time for motherf**kers actin like elliot ness
Winchester sawed off blow your rolex through your f**kin chest
Splatted body pieces while blood drips off your girl's dress
I'm ready for more progress
Have your head sent home
And a piece of your leg sittin on the record company desk
Extort like a mad ni**a western union
You don't have a clue men how i get through men
*repeat chorus 4x*
