lirik lagu bishop lamont – ya losing
yeah, right here, what up b-tches?
mr. sandman
war machine prototype
now when i’m on the mic talking, i’m richard ramirez
night stalker, it’s a murder when i make an appearance
skywalker, light saber, rhymes
say goodnight taladega track, rapper recites sick of poltergeist, head spinner
great rapper, even better swimmer
gotta beat this industry, it’s shark week, what’s for dinner?
see my fin up, you know i’m ’bout to eat with the condiments
so much blood on the beach, the paramedics are vomiting
supreme architect, sick as a p-rn set
i feel so alone, my compet-tion isn’t born yet
sworn to the code, i follow till i’m finito
these hoes wanna swallow my sword like it’s a freak show
he’s pretty good, i could beat him in my sleep though
i learned to play the game, you still need a f-cking cheat code
so please don’t try to play me this week, bro
you never gonna make it like shaq shooting a freak, yo
it’s been a problem, these rapper c-ckroaches is getting boiled
my clique is sick of you freshman, your milk is spoiled
i’m ’bout to break, take up your sp-ce and your real estate
kick you out your own sh-t, smash up your dinner plates
i’m probably tipping with my visions from the third eye
see your aura before a conversation, i’m so high
enough to quantum leap the time sp-ce continuum
and hypnotize tomorrow with the motion of my pendulum
my spine is the crossing, it’s lost in disguises
ballet of appalls, brainwashed of his desires
i’m a phantom, and it costs, you’d better step with some caution
every round leads to brain cell loss and sheer exhaustion
i’m gravity, christ, compet-tion unseen
b-tch pointed out a vic and seen a f-cked up team
in a blink i moved a whoop, they had a f-cked up queen
like a scene from a movie with a f-cked up theme
we don’t believe in compet-tion
just more volunteers for the f-cking mortician
see, we the victors b-tch and you’re the victims
my gun brr the stick, i’m ha ha, ha, stick ’em
see, we the real deal, we really killed bin laden
obama called us when that n-gg- got a problem
n-gg- we the champs, y’all fools ain’t balling
okay, it’s time to get down
run up, rob you fools, i want my money right now
like jay z wentworth, like a jackal ‘.
go ahead, call for backup, them n-gg-s is desert
i’m a wizard b-tch, you can’t defeat me
workaholic alcoholic, just as seen on tv
so brolic anabolic, sprinkle steroids on my salad
up and around the world, whole chest get blown
i drink muscle milk and sniff, it don’t explode
turn up vengeance on you n-gg-s, give you lumps and st-tches
you stupid sons of b-tches
my sick style’s relentless, my rhyme scheme is endless
you f-cked up tremendous
and a wife beater, i’ll flip over your two seater
maybe i should smoke you with my 9 mm
i told you n-gg-s, nice and smooth, we run this here, ain’t sh-t you can do
yo expendables, kill your own, that’s cruel
the technique is hazardous, rising like lazarus
meet the constant n-gg- like jesus of that nazareth
scripture, over shadowy clip that
no instagram, i can paint the picture
literature, banana clips i spit to cheer
we major mc’s, you men mature
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