The Only Weathermen Song

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Jakki Da Motamouth] I'm glad niggas hate when I'm masked in the place Get you mad when I fondle your bitch's ass in your face Glad that you fake 'cause you look silly when I apply White-out to your gluteus, son, your ass is erased Cut out, retarded kid, I'm gonna battle with friends Son evolved, then I'll smack him if he asks me again Slightly tired and grim. To rhyme like me, you need To ask your god permission to be higher than him Yo, these words you spit ain't ripping me, chief Hit the road like you trying to stick your dick in the street Kick in your teeth, you can't bite, you suckling corn, your ugly Mom got a dick, now how the fuck was you born? I eat pussy, so you I know I'm gonna go through I'm looking at your bitch, wondеring how the fuck she chose you I'm making cakе, and you're the main ingredient Yeah, I heard your tape. So what are you? A stand-up comedian? I lie too much, I'm such a disgrace I'll tell niggas they're dope just to get 'em out my face, I'm able To read stunts, and I'm eyeing your freak. She been faithful For three months, and she dying to cheat Listen to this cat, he way up in space. Nigga, you wack You need to get the fuck up out of my face It's Jakki from the Weathermen crew. You know? The one who all your niggas say is better than you And I'm sitting in this circle with these babbling elves You're cypher's boring. Here, let me battle myself You niggas getting mopped, kid, I trust you suck Say I'm weak around your pops, and he'll fuck you up You're losing your health, losing your belt, hop in your body Look in the mirror and watch you lose to yourself Motherfuckers are lunch when I brawl, I'll put you in a headlock Bite in your cranium and punch 'til you crawl [Verse 2: Yak Ballz] Yo, yo, yo, float to the Main floor where atoms is broke and amateurs smoked Inhaling spirits like I naturally toke. After I choke Rappers don't even wanna touch the mic Whores telling me they wanna fuck tonight. Son, I'm Razor-sharp with mine, boxcutter slice Sparkling, harboring missiles within the carton (But some kids wanna battle you, pa) Fuck all that nonsense I'll formulate raps endlessly, orchestrate Symphonies, the Weathermen taking over the industry Y'all cats be afraid, but I can see with my eyes closed Take you out in a hoodie like a Jedi robe, it goes: Fuck 5-0 'cause I hate the cops, nigga I set fire to the stage you rock, busting slugs From the heart as if there's guns in my chest while you shook Like a little bitch with a lump in her breast, so bow down When you see me and my duns in the flesh, so shut The fuck up and show show respect, you fucking faggot Weathermen, yo [Verse 3: Copywrite] In this most aggressive art form, none of you bastards want it 'Cause I don't paint on the canvas, I slam rappers on it I'm seeing crumbs with their snippet tapes, passing 'em out Pass it to me? Get it tossed to the trash with a smile And I know you give a fuck, bitch. Boy, admit it I give two shits in the tissue in the toilet with it You flow sick but take too long spitting your coldest I can make a cure before any symptoms are noticed Motherfuckers ain't nice, y'all cats ain't even halfway polite Do yourselves a favor: pass me the mic I see exhausted emcees in the ring with friends trying Exalted is he with the strength of ten lions Constantly ripping through these rigid crews, in the Confession booth, I repent for sins I didn't do Damn right. The grimy rhyme serpent trapped beneath Earth's surface 'Til I'm summoned, escape my god if we get a virgin Bullet speed, extend from any weapon, pledge To every brethren to keep y'all on the edge of every second Young buck, I'm immaculate when my lungs rock You're an inadequate precum drip accident from a cumshot Faggot, I'll boo you in the crowd, chew you with a style Nut in your Corona, saw your toolie with a smile [Verse 4: Tage Proto] Yeah, yo, you're probably embarrassed To convey your rhyme in front of more than your fam 'Cause deep down, the lack of confident overwhelms Your ability to rock well within public dwells Catch me in local hotels on 4/13 Taking intentional pauses to slapbox your ovary It's Tage Proto, more dope lines than a heroin addict My craft's hard to grasp like mathematics, black magic Pop and drop perpendicular to the usual Photoshopping fuck-ups the very best thing for you to do Realistically speaking, there isn't shit that you can do Your squad a pile of kids so nobody can boo for you There's more for your score, raw for our altar What you know of poetry's like Gretzky in the fourth quarter Absorb all your music and use it as our motive Still in this to show you how much of a fuck I don't give How much of a fuck I don't give? I take out you dumb fucks with numbnuts, yup Young sluts, pull you into dump trucks, bend you With done cunts. For lungs cut, I'm sparking a genius You've been marching between us to Mars or to Venus I'll stick the arrow from the back of the neck, fall out your penis Accurately serve your bitch styles like Martina Hingis Stop and opt to follow the proper procedures The most alive like [?] Pick up all of the pieces, go and call the polices Sucker boy [Verse 5: Vast Aire] Look at you pouring syrup on shit since pancakes Now if I slap your tape deck, the beat might break Talking a bunch of "I mights," but, son, I will Outpower you, meteor-shower you Happily ever after? That's a never (That's a never) What the fuck you think this is? A utopia? You sound like your man got you amped up Notice that's the same cat picking you up. I'll take A chainsaw to your ice grill, make it a smiley face We chew 'em up and spit 'em out if we don't like the taste We flew through Oxford institution with flying colors and left The stage sideways like The Flying Wonder You could be famous, stars get smacked back Whether they in physical form or where the gods stay at Son, I know so many friends in high places (High places). That means The blunt's belly is getting split in high places Either rooftops, staircases, and once Done with the raps, we dismember the mic and cement cases You know our favorite phrases. Yeah, we bite fixes Verbal stabs so fast, leave no blood traces And you can't scab, incarcerated In white cells [?] You cats ain't ready for this heavy abyss Decoy octopus, eight arms with black mist Now [?] bowed out, eight bars you done missed Listen, I'm done with this like Sonya Blade when she blows a kiss [Verse 6: Cage] [?] out of my mouth out, see the words doused out Spit a verse that got my frontal lobe bounced out All couched out while locals feed on my brain And toast goblets of Cage piss while bleeding my name Evacuate the pad with no blood cell count Stick my fingers into the street to shake the shells out Sew on three stripes to my fatigued flesh Put a loaded shotgun to my face and tease Death Left the hospital to throat-bang her Pull out Destiny's child with a fucking coat hanger Watched his head pop when I stepped on it, KCR Audience'll get spoon-fed the vomit Promo bullshit got some little bums jealous Where their eyeballs impaled on drink umbrellas I drop shit for the crowd to figure out, you touch the mic The crowd leaves and pours their liquor out