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lirik lagu album persona non grata – good grief – urban dance squad

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good morning vietnam!

my style is triple, quadruple, damage for mc’s
i make ’em huff ‘n puff like m-fflers for meineke
human exhaust, you wanna g-get lost ?
rhymes plus exxon ride brains like alain prost
mc clowns, i blaze towns
i drag wheel skulls, leave with speed ‘n dust cloud
all you monkeys, donkeys, alternative junkies
i’m strictly t-rex, ‘n my raps just crunch, see
the jive ‘n babble, throw heavy scrabble
sparkles plus the bubbles plus the flavor like snapple
all you so-called rebels heavy metal cattle
some horses got force but i simply tame with saddle
hunt a stunt like red october, ain’t crossin’ over
oops ! scud scrub? patriot makes pulver
the music hits, fierce that it is
check the brothers in the crowd that ‘hiss’
good grief!

industry check to mac and wanna know me
i kick against control untamed like wild pony
so holy like tony, attract like coney island
my style man, don’t need no master flasher
test a prankster gangster like a gat much faster
get the band aid, kid crunch hard knock
i sport more techniques confidential than fort knox
sort of tool – glock – automatic on the static
synthetic – plastic? you stay ready with the casket
i throw a style, freak wants to test it
it’s crazy mega fab, makes your hottie cheer
i crush mc jaws who oughta be chandelier
and drop the litter – on the quitter
the survival-rival gets stronger
much fitter
worldwide you get served like stinky cheese
more force than a s-xual intercourse
so mc’s, please
brothers amaze – keep ’em all in a daze
with the wild funk blaze
good grief!

one time for your mind now, as i climb now
step by step now, but wagga rep now
i write flavor like i was wes craven
people under my stairs steal like raven
black with beaks wanna croak when spoken to
some sh-tty nonsense beat, you gotta be jokin’ too
the rhyme enforcer, rhythm courser
i ‘spect you to respect with the force, well of course oh!
don’t give me the lip
like he thought that he could
i frown on bullsh-t like my name was clint eastwood
you come with fronts, stunts ‘n poses
i welcome you to my jungle
like my name was guns ‘n roses
i blast the sound, you check the sound
you got to be down, you got to be down, like me, like charlie brown
saying good grief


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