Taste

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Violent J] Heard thoughts going on in the free world Broke out the asylum and killed a girl Just a warm-up, just to get it on 'Cause I'ma be cutting throats 'til the break of dawn Can't nobody get me I've always been a psycho, but now they coming with me That's straight, could we team up? 'Cause I believe every throat deserves a good cut Look in my brain, it's fucking insane Roll around naked in the acid rain Rich bitch fucker took me for a sucker Now we killing you instead of killing each other Walked in your house, shot him in the mouth Lean back the head and pour the brains out My lyrics are strong, it's only a song The government front like they don't know what's going on Fuck it, I'll take the matter in my own hands Cut you down, cat, cut you down 'Cause I know the rich go joggin' And I'm waiting in the bushes, axe to the noggin (Come on, come on now, bitch, come on) About thirty, forty times Psychedelic sick with the psycho, psycho rhymes But you keep the killin' in one place But I'm at your door, motherfucker, have a taste [Verse 2: John Kickjazz, Shaggy 2 Dope, John Kickjazz & Shaggy 2 Dope] Fucking you up, won't let you pass Fucking you up, shot you in the ass Jumped out the alleyway with a motherfucking battle axe 12 dead bodies on the motherfucking train tracks I'm sick of this shit on my TV They showing psychopathics and I see me And you're calling me a homeless hobo While I'm laying on my suede couch listening to Mojo Snipe you in the head from a tower Or chase your naked ass clean out the shower Finally catch you down the block Take this here gat, shoot you in the cock Who you fucking with, Governor E? Don't you know I'll hang your dead ass from a tree Yup, then swing you by the foot Mr. Drummond looking, bald-headed, punk bitch Strolled to the banquet party Drank all their brew, then shot everybody They set it up wrong Created the ghetto and thought it wouldn't last long Thought we'd kill each other off Didn't think we'd come to the suburbs, jackoff The clown'll stick his knife in your face Motherfucker, have a taste [Verse 3: Jumpsteady] In Detroit, do or die, die and be done with Another wild solution 'cause it's nothing but a wicked man How many motherfuckers have I known through the years Got their necks blown out or crippled, living in fear Now I'ma tell you 'cause I bent out many skulls but they missed 'Cause I'm drawn by from the vision of the Iron Fist Raised with the crime, with nothing to eat So my natural instinct's to kill in the street But I'm above that, a sense of caution Jumpsteady stepping over the government's brainwashing Take it, take it further, take it further, take it far Don't let them even judge you 'cause you know who you are Seems they don't even know about the inner city crime war Money on the troops in the desert, what the fuck for Damn, they're stupid; their minds must be failing Think I'd rather pay a little extra to a gallon To save a human life, or two End this ghetto war for the homies that I once knew You're peeping out the barn with your closed eyes (You're peeping out the barn with your closed eyes, ho) I got a mind killing rage waiting for change In the folds of my jacket I cradle my gauge What you gonna do when I show up at your place Try to ignore it this time, motherfucker, have a taste [Verse 4: Capitol E] You need a spoonful, in other words, a little taste So let me feed you the city life at a steady pace Wake up to gunfire, thinking it was a dream 'Til you hear neighbors holler and a young child scream Every day thing, think you can take it Just wait 'til you see that crackhead at your front door naked Begging for money, acting like he know ya You slam the door in fear, but someday, he'll show ya Catch you at blank point range, you getting jacked Come up with it, bitch! Now you don't know how to act But that's life and experience is a mother Happens every day, one after the other But the suburb living is high-class Well, High Class, let the city trade with your ass And show you the rough times Hungry homeless people committing crime after crime And bitches burning the pipe for dough Then they run to the rock sto' and to buy some rock snow And I hear you making fun of that ICP (What's up, E?), get your bats It's time for you to crack some necks And if they don't know now, show them what to expect 'Cause it doesn't matter the race or the place Capital E, giving the inner city taste [Interlude: Violent J] Yeah, we headed for Birmingham, Grosse Pointe, and Beverly Hills I thought you knew, 'cause we in a devilish mood [Verse 5: Esham] Guess who's rolling with the ICP The Black Devil coming straight from the D I'm headed out to Birmingham My temperature is burnin', man Looking for the governor to kill him and I think I can Violent J know the way, so I'm gonna get you If you're standing in my way, I'm getting with ya The Black Devil, that devil you don't know Getting more pussy than Bell Biv DeVoe Hey, man, do you know my name? Esham with NATAS, not Soul Train So give me mine 'cause it ain't about black or white It ain't about wrong or right on Devil's Night I'll burn a cross in your fucking face Now homicide's got a new case So give me a taste (So give me a taste, so give me a taste) (So give me a taste, so give me a taste) [Outro] Just, just a little taste, just a little taste Just, just, have a little taste, have a little taste Just, just, just a little taste, just a little taste Just, just, have a little taste, have a little taste Just, just, just a little taste, just a little taste Just, just, have a little taste, have a little taste Just a little taste, just a little taste Just, just, have a little taste, have a little taste Just, just, just a little taste, just a little taste Just, just, have a little taste, have a little taste Just a little taste, just a little taste Just, just, have a little taste, have a little taste Just a little taste