lirik lagu ness lee - it ain't safe
[verse 1: jarren benton]
jarren is the type that murders a mic
then after the show get c0ked up, go home, murder his wife
lee do you rest on a red eye flight
one with jheri curls and a beard lay low for 38 nights
geez i’m buggin’
word to my cousin
walk holding my wood like hacksaw jim duggan
searching for a young b-tch to give a good lovin’
love, f-ck, and stay away from wh0r-s who hate d-ck suckin’
retreat back in the street with plenty of heat
off of the chain like kunta kinte’s feet
gave dirty p-ss to my po
now i’m back in the joint
jackin’ punks for phone time like miss cleo
keep crack stuffed in a big bag of cheetos
only one of me goes that’s the chrome desert eagle
blow!
all i need in this life is sin
methamphetamines, paper, and pen
oops i did it again
severed your skull and spilled blood on my tims
call me tarzan, this n-gga’s going out on a limb
get it?
vote for jarren, a-town’s amb-ssador
f-ck rims, b-tch, my car has a flux capacitor
the most eligible bachelor
caveman, see a b-tch i want and tackle her
rick james, beat a b-tch up and shackle her
undisputed champ, stomp a hole in the challenger
[verse 2: ness lee]
listen
to get rid of ness you’ll probably need to find a cure for hustle
when i grind it’s like you flunked the p-ss test
you’re in trouble
the flow is like there’s strings attached to it
since hip hop’s dead, well i’m bringing back music
my cd is that foolish
it evokes the emotions that make folks on jerry springer act stupid
i swing a bat ruthless
and beat a cat clueless
and reenact the featured act to it
for being wack i’ll leave your -ss toothless
the rhino’s here
i’m dancing like michael jackson in rhinestone gear
your man used to hold weight, well lipo’s here
holding a 9 and throwing pine cone sh-lls
and don’t think that your little threats scare me
cause i know fear
and i no fear it’s my show
yeah i’m ice cold
like dolemite
the lion’s share of y’all should name your cds
jimmy crack corn cause i don’t care
you eyeing fierce with iron
but irony here
is i know queer is behind those stares
not enough iron in your diet hear?
i am psycho, weird
i might chase you while you climb those stairs
and if i can’t cut you dawg, i might throw chairs
a cyclone in a rifle barrel, they like no
and y’all slow, get your typos cleared
even your blood type is type 0, shea
a’ight, gone
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