lirik lagu kleenex girl wonder - coda
yo, matt cutter! (yeah, i like this)
graham smith! it’s the mothaf~cking coda!
(get ready) we’re going straight through, no chorus on this one
(yeah) check it out
in shootouts mothaf~ckas get shootouts, stomach punch make you spit your food out, say ooh like umlauts
make a room bounce like it had rubber walls, three strikes like b~tterball, you drop gutter b~lls
y’all need discipline, i’m tired like michelin of people not listening, i’m giving them the business
sick like syphilis, matt gets wild, give me weed and i’m jolly like old saint nicholas
inimitable, incredible, indefatigable, half~animal, half~mеchanical, ~n~log cannibal
day tripper, sometimes i follow thе sun, my flows make epileptics straight swallow they tongues
a volatile young turk straight from the heartland, get sh~tty like a bar band
disguise like darkman, god d~mn, i get stupid like luther van dam, got french b~tches up in clubs doing the can~can
snack and mozzarella and cheddar cheese, got money like [?] charlemagne
i got no time for baller games, got trees like arbor day, ain’t living on a farmer’s pay
but got silos where i grow my hydro and store enough guns to turn a fistfight to shiloh
but why though? ‘cuz i got a wicked mean streak, spit automatic static till tape machines leak
these greens speak for me, i’m a mouthpiece, any song without me is just plain lousy
the weed makes me drowsy, still i got the fortress, my cortex blast like vortex, northwest to southeast
i do drugs like the f~ckin’ lotus eaters, my purple ‘fros floats on notes through both speakers
with no sneakers, matt barefoot and pregnant, with hip hop’s baby as i hit you with a headb~tt
rude and indignant, i crush you in my hand like a peanut, then shoot the crumbs with a machine gun
if i seen one rapper, i seen ’em all, i see ’em rising and i’ll see ’em fall
but matt walks ten feet tall, i beat y’all all the same, rappers better flee when i call out their name
they’re weak like scenes from a mall, i mean it y’all, and if you got beef we can brawl
i go all out like nuclear fallout, tear the wall out if you talk sh~t, then my foot will meet with your b~lls
it’s time for action, the iron~handed fascist exacts his revenge on your family and friends, don’t swing that hatchet
you better bury it, b~tch, i’m the sun, helios ridin’ cross the sky in my chariot
you like my style so much, why don’t you marry it, bite heads off like ozzy, it ain’t even getting hairy yet
hip~hop’s been under the influence ever since this matt cutter sh~t commenced
omnipotence, why all y’all be impotent? hit you with this and you black out like window tints
on my ford probe, an old navy wardrobe, when you poor souls check soundscan say four souls
nasty like p~rno, stick girls in both holes, sh~t so cold, f~ck it! i’ll spit morse code
tell the bank to foreclose on your house ‘cuz i’ll stick you for your homeowners loan
no bone to pick with any biters riding my d~ck, ‘cuz at least that means there someone out there buying my sh~t and getting into me
still the illest trapper in captivity, the captain of the industry, returning what you give to me, like tennis matches
but also like i got a gift reciept, bring your sh~t back shrinkwrapped, exchange it for the smith cd
‘cuz only one rapper making it hype, all day and night, only one kickin’ it tight, gettin’ it right
there’s only one rapper popping sh~t that i like, and as for who it is, well, his spit’s on my mic
yeah, you see how that works? we get f~cking graham smith up in here doing the track, and me, matt motherf~cking cutter rapping on it, as sh~t just f~cking goes off. you know, i don’t, i don’t give a motherf~ck about any of you. i mean, i~ i don’t, i could f~cking care less. i will f~cking k!ll you, i will seriously f~cking k!ll you. i don’t care if you’re f~cking with me, or graham smith, or f~ckin’ rafeeq hasan, christian goodwilli~ f~cking goodwillie, kris voss, jeff f~cking giba, adam f~cking blake, paul harris, f~cking justin [?], f~cking, any of us man any of the f~cking kleenex girl wonder kids, if you f~cking with us, [?] matt cutter is going to f~cking beat the living sh~t out of you, f~cking come into your house and f~cking… be straight rude to you, f~cking slap you, and then f~cking shoot your f~cking dog, f~cking, make you f~cking l!ck your dog’s f~cking b~lls, ‘cuz i don’t really give a f~ck, you know? i’m matt f~cking cutter, it doesn’t really matter, i don’t give a f~ck about any of you. but sh~t, when smith hooks up this track, man, it’s f~cking golden, you know what i’m saying? but this the end of the mothaf~ckin’ smith album, i hope y’all enjoyed this sh~t, i know we f~cking enjoyed making it. smith and sh~t… f~cking, f~cking everybody. we out, yo
(oh sh~t, that was off the hook!)
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