Some Shit Lyrics
| Song | Some Shit |
| Artist | The Lady of Rage |
| Album | Necessary Roughness |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Allen, Lady of Rage, Martin ... | |
| Aight Alright so, am, turn my mic up, turn my headphones up, somethin | |
| I'm not... | |
| Yo, can you hear it, yet? | |
| Can't hear it right | |
| You can't hear yet? | |
| Nah, nah turn it up | |
| Yo | |
| Alright | |
| Premier | |
| So... | |
| Yeah? | |
| So, you want me to just kick some shit? | |
| Yeah, just kick a freestyle, whatever, it don't matter | |
| Alright. Bring me in | |
| 2-3 | |
| [Verse:] | |
| Hey, hot damn, ho, here I go again | |
| You know who I be, and you know watcha in for | |
| For your information | |
| Me, I be comin harder than ejaculation | |
| Evacuation on the premesis (I'm what?), I'm limitless | |
| Run it to the limit, like Emmitt Smith, I'm listed in the Guiness's | |
| For in the book of Genesis it reads | |
| In the beginning God created Heaven then he created me | |
| So you see | |
| It ain't no way on earth you can see me | |
| That's just how it B.E. | |
| You might as well drop that thought, cause it ain't goin down, G | |
| You wishin, I'll leave you curled up in the fetal position | |
| Impossible mission you think you gettin with Rage, well, then listen | |
| You're thinkin the unthinkable | |
| Rage is the unsinkable | |
| Who can do it better | |
| I gotta art for linkin letters | |
| A diva run it like Gail Dever | |
| Style so sick you think I got swamp fever | |
| To all non-believers | |
| Y'all ain't believin I rocks hard when I'm stoned like Steven | |
| The way I kill it I leave you in a process of grieven | |
| Leave you barely breathin | |
| Kicks it so hard I knock out your teeth and leave you teethin | |
| Take aim and shoot, knock you out your boots | |
| I be the beginning of a New Testament like Matthew, Mark, and Luke | |
| I turn the motha out in Levi Strauss | |
| No doubt, make suckas do an about | |
| Face, cut to the chase | |
| They told me haste makes waste | |
| And I'll waste you if you're hasty | |
| Lyrically, it don't take much to make me | |
| Fly off the handle | |
| Go off like Roman candles | |
| Scandalous not | |
| Band you like wristwratch | |
| Watch me clock a end, clock a grip | |
| Watch me grip that microphone and cold rock that bitch | |
| To your socks get hit | |
| From the esophogus my vocal range will expand | |
| And raise up and smack that ass like back hands | |
| I got that shit that leave your whole section deaded | |
| And, if you got no common sense you won't be ressurected | |
| Fed-Ex it, my successes didn't make it over night | |
| But over mics for you it could be over in just one night | |
| Cause the R hits like Thundar the Barbarian | |
| Neva in your life could you ever scar the Aquarian | |
| Water Bearer | |
| Great Granddaughter of Clara | |
| Bring the terror to your dome | |
| As you get nearer to my throne | |
| Them bones get crushed to dust | |
| Cause when it comes down to struttin my stuff | |
| It's necessary | |
| I get rough | |
| Cause I'm a lyrical genius no other could swing this | |
| Better than I (Why?) cause I'm one of the meanest | |
| Not givin a damn statin to all who I am | |
| No need to cram, cause now you fully understand | |
| That Robin is rockin, causin hippers to hoppin | |
| Try to stop what I'm droppin, and a box you'll be popped in | |
| Think twice, save your life, give me the mic | |
| I say it again, yo, it won't be nice | |
| You think I'm huffin and puffin, think I'm blowin and bluffin | |
| You hens can't begin to contend with Robin | |
| Voice smooth, lyrics lovely | |
| The hippest hip-hopper, got brothers tuggin to hug me | |
| Ah, dig | |
| [Outro:] | |
| Aight, damn, aight, that's enough. You got a level now? | |
| I'm shook cause I'm gonna be hoarse in a minute, come on | |
| Let's, let's do the song, the song, okay | |
| Premier, DJ Premier, Pr-Pr-Pr-Pre-mier | |
| Premi-Pr-Pr-Pr-Pr Wait, no, no, no, no, no, okay, okay | |
| Go back, go back, go back |
| zuo ci : Allen, Lady of Rage, Martin ... | |
| Aight Alright so, am, turn my mic up, turn my headphones up, somethin | |
| I' m not... | |
| Yo, can you hear it, yet? | |
| Can' t hear it right | |
| You can' t hear yet? | |
| Nah, nah turn it up | |
| Yo | |
| Alright | |
| Premier | |
| So... | |
| Yeah? | |
| So, you want me to just kick some shit? | |
| Yeah, just kick a freestyle, whatever, it don' t matter | |
| Alright. Bring me in | |
| 23 | |
| Verse: | |
| Hey, hot damn, ho, here I go again | |
| You know who I be, and you know watcha in for | |
| For your information | |
| Me, I be comin harder than ejaculation | |
| Evacuation on the premesis I' m what?, I' m limitless | |
| Run it to the limit, like Emmitt Smith, I' m listed in the Guiness' s | |
| For in the book of Genesis it reads | |
| In the beginning God created Heaven then he created me | |
| So you see | |
| It ain' t no way on earth you can see me | |
| That' s just how it B. E. | |
| You might as well drop that thought, cause it ain' t goin down, G | |
| You wishin, I' ll leave you curled up in the fetal position | |
| Impossible mission you think you gettin with Rage, well, then listen | |
| You' re thinkin the unthinkable | |
| Rage is the unsinkable | |
| Who can do it better | |
| I gotta art for linkin letters | |
| A diva run it like Gail Dever | |
| Style so sick you think I got swamp fever | |
| To all nonbelievers | |
| Y' all ain' t believin I rocks hard when I' m stoned like Steven | |
| The way I kill it I leave you in a process of grieven | |
| Leave you barely breathin | |
| Kicks it so hard I knock out your teeth and leave you teethin | |
| Take aim and shoot, knock you out your boots | |
| I be the beginning of a New Testament like Matthew, Mark, and Luke | |
| I turn the motha out in Levi Strauss | |
| No doubt, make suckas do an about | |
| Face, cut to the chase | |
| They told me haste makes waste | |
| And I' ll waste you if you' re hasty | |
| Lyrically, it don' t take much to make me | |
| Fly off the handle | |
| Go off like Roman candles | |
| Scandalous not | |
| Band you like wristwratch | |
| Watch me clock a end, clock a grip | |
| Watch me grip that microphone and cold rock that bitch | |
| To your socks get hit | |
| From the esophogus my vocal range will expand | |
| And raise up and smack that ass like back hands | |
| I got that shit that leave your whole section deaded | |
| And, if you got no common sense you won' t be ressurected | |
| FedEx it, my successes didn' t make it over night | |
| But over mics for you it could be over in just one night | |
| Cause the R hits like Thundar the Barbarian | |
| Neva in your life could you ever scar the Aquarian | |
| Water Bearer | |
| Great Granddaughter of Clara | |
| Bring the terror to your dome | |
| As you get nearer to my throne | |
| Them bones get crushed to dust | |
| Cause when it comes down to struttin my stuff | |
| It' s necessary | |
| I get rough | |
| Cause I' m a lyrical genius no other could swing this | |
| Better than I Why? cause I' m one of the meanest | |
| Not givin a damn statin to all who I am | |
| No need to cram, cause now you fully understand | |
| That Robin is rockin, causin hippers to hoppin | |
| Try to stop what I' m droppin, and a box you' ll be popped in | |
| Think twice, save your life, give me the mic | |
| I say it again, yo, it won' t be nice | |
| You think I' m huffin and puffin, think I' m blowin and bluffin | |
| You hens can' t begin to contend with Robin | |
| Voice smooth, lyrics lovely | |
| The hippest hiphopper, got brothers tuggin to hug me | |
| Ah, dig | |
| Outro: | |
| Aight, damn, aight, that' s enough. You got a level now? | |
| I' m shook cause I' m gonna be hoarse in a minute, come on | |
| Let' s, let' s do the song, the song, okay | |
| Premier, DJ Premier, PrPrPrPremier | |
| PremiPrPrPrPr Wait, no, no, no, no, no, okay, okay | |
| Go back, go back, go back |
| zuò cí : Allen, Lady of Rage, Martin ... | |
| Aight Alright so, am, turn my mic up, turn my headphones up, somethin | |
| I' m not... | |
| Yo, can you hear it, yet? | |
| Can' t hear it right | |
| You can' t hear yet? | |
| Nah, nah turn it up | |
| Yo | |
| Alright | |
| Premier | |
| So... | |
| Yeah? | |
| So, you want me to just kick some shit? | |
| Yeah, just kick a freestyle, whatever, it don' t matter | |
| Alright. Bring me in | |
| 23 | |
| Verse: | |
| Hey, hot damn, ho, here I go again | |
| You know who I be, and you know watcha in for | |
| For your information | |
| Me, I be comin harder than ejaculation | |
| Evacuation on the premesis I' m what?, I' m limitless | |
| Run it to the limit, like Emmitt Smith, I' m listed in the Guiness' s | |
| For in the book of Genesis it reads | |
| In the beginning God created Heaven then he created me | |
| So you see | |
| It ain' t no way on earth you can see me | |
| That' s just how it B. E. | |
| You might as well drop that thought, cause it ain' t goin down, G | |
| You wishin, I' ll leave you curled up in the fetal position | |
| Impossible mission you think you gettin with Rage, well, then listen | |
| You' re thinkin the unthinkable | |
| Rage is the unsinkable | |
| Who can do it better | |
| I gotta art for linkin letters | |
| A diva run it like Gail Dever | |
| Style so sick you think I got swamp fever | |
| To all nonbelievers | |
| Y' all ain' t believin I rocks hard when I' m stoned like Steven | |
| The way I kill it I leave you in a process of grieven | |
| Leave you barely breathin | |
| Kicks it so hard I knock out your teeth and leave you teethin | |
| Take aim and shoot, knock you out your boots | |
| I be the beginning of a New Testament like Matthew, Mark, and Luke | |
| I turn the motha out in Levi Strauss | |
| No doubt, make suckas do an about | |
| Face, cut to the chase | |
| They told me haste makes waste | |
| And I' ll waste you if you' re hasty | |
| Lyrically, it don' t take much to make me | |
| Fly off the handle | |
| Go off like Roman candles | |
| Scandalous not | |
| Band you like wristwratch | |
| Watch me clock a end, clock a grip | |
| Watch me grip that microphone and cold rock that bitch | |
| To your socks get hit | |
| From the esophogus my vocal range will expand | |
| And raise up and smack that ass like back hands | |
| I got that shit that leave your whole section deaded | |
| And, if you got no common sense you won' t be ressurected | |
| FedEx it, my successes didn' t make it over night | |
| But over mics for you it could be over in just one night | |
| Cause the R hits like Thundar the Barbarian | |
| Neva in your life could you ever scar the Aquarian | |
| Water Bearer | |
| Great Granddaughter of Clara | |
| Bring the terror to your dome | |
| As you get nearer to my throne | |
| Them bones get crushed to dust | |
| Cause when it comes down to struttin my stuff | |
| It' s necessary | |
| I get rough | |
| Cause I' m a lyrical genius no other could swing this | |
| Better than I Why? cause I' m one of the meanest | |
| Not givin a damn statin to all who I am | |
| No need to cram, cause now you fully understand | |
| That Robin is rockin, causin hippers to hoppin | |
| Try to stop what I' m droppin, and a box you' ll be popped in | |
| Think twice, save your life, give me the mic | |
| I say it again, yo, it won' t be nice | |
| You think I' m huffin and puffin, think I' m blowin and bluffin | |
| You hens can' t begin to contend with Robin | |
| Voice smooth, lyrics lovely | |
| The hippest hiphopper, got brothers tuggin to hug me | |
| Ah, dig | |
| Outro: | |
| Aight, damn, aight, that' s enough. You got a level now? | |
| I' m shook cause I' m gonna be hoarse in a minute, come on | |
| Let' s, let' s do the song, the song, okay | |
| Premier, DJ Premier, PrPrPrPremier | |
| PremiPrPrPrPr Wait, no, no, no, no, no, okay, okay | |
| Go back, go back, go back |
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