Lickupon Lyrics
| Song | Lickupon |
| Artist | Viktor Vaughn |
| Album | Vaudeville Villain |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Confirmation of your worst fears | |
| Ever since his first years had a thirst for beers | |
| Back from the future, it'll make you more sober-er | |
| And brought back a long list of fakers who crossed over | |
| I'm like, fuck it, bubble-baller | |
| Catch ‘em up at Bob's show, stall him with a troubled caller | |
| Bastard, who could make G's faster | |
| Than a newly re-mastered while being truly plastered | |
| There's four sides to every story | |
| If these walls could talk, they'd probably still ignore me | |
| Contemplate war over a cup of warm coffee | |
| It's really getting gory, tell your problem to Maury | |
| Don't bore V with the "glory, hallelu-ey" | |
| Crews be like, foo-ey he's just a buncha hoo-ey | |
| I knew he had new G, who he? Viktor Vaughn | |
| He had a new sicker song, I think he call it "Lickupon" | |
| Umm but uh, he study rhymes and patter-ins | |
| Climb so steep sometimes the beat don't be mattering | |
| Sounded like a half-dead from Scurvy band rock | |
| A programmed, computer bio-grafted Herbie Hancock | |
| Maybe next life he'll try harder | |
| Died a martyr at the hands of the fire-starter | |
| More scripts ripped available for via barter | |
| Transport a stack to the lab via charter | |
| On the microphone he came to daze and amaze ya' | |
| What a guy, practice banging flies with razors | |
| And watch out for the robot, he got eyes with lasers | |
| Tell ‘em when they come with more topics besides blazers | |
| Enough with the guns already, they're all toys and lames | |
| The joy's in the aim, he asked him, how's ya' poison game? | |
| Do you bust your crossbow? Also, more so | |
| Accurate body blows to torso, thought so | |
| These flows you won't find in no "how-to" | |
| If the blacksmith doubt you, he smack the shit out you | |
| Make nothing gone, let nothing twitch | |
| Just don't be near the mic when the on-button switch | |
| V bring the beef like a trucker to Fuddrucker | |
| Delivery to all y'all motherfuckers and bloodsucker | |
| Copping more pleas than when a rap nigga bicker on | |
| And that's my word is bond, I think he call it "Lickupon" | |
| Umm, he wrote this one with a fever sick in bed | |
| With his dickhead inside a chickenhead | |
| No, a dead chicken's head, he said it help his nausea | |
| If he lost ya', wait ‘til he tell you about the flying saucer | |
| Dag, the kickback'll leave your wig ragged | |
| For a big bag of good grizzle and some Zig-Zag | |
| Survival, keep a rival in denial | |
| And bust what he get just for coming out his pie-hole | |
| Die calmer than a suicide-bomber | |
| V just the type to do a hoo-ride with momma | |
| Said to James Bond, my name is Viktor, Viktor Vaughn | |
| Told the chick the quickest way to get on, lickupon |
| Confirmation of your worst fears | |
| Ever since his first years had a thirst for beers | |
| Back from the future, it' ll make you more soberer | |
| And brought back a long list of fakers who crossed over | |
| I' m like, fuck it, bubbleballer | |
| Catch ' em up at Bob' s show, stall him with a troubled caller | |
| Bastard, who could make G' s faster | |
| Than a newly remastered while being truly plastered | |
| There' s four sides to every story | |
| If these walls could talk, they' d probably still ignore me | |
| Contemplate war over a cup of warm coffee | |
| It' s really getting gory, tell your problem to Maury | |
| Don' t bore V with the " glory, halleluey" | |
| Crews be like, fooey he' s just a buncha hooey | |
| I knew he had new G, who he? Viktor Vaughn | |
| He had a new sicker song, I think he call it " Lickupon" | |
| Umm but uh, he study rhymes and patterins | |
| Climb so steep sometimes the beat don' t be mattering | |
| Sounded like a halfdead from Scurvy band rock | |
| A programmed, computer biografted Herbie Hancock | |
| Maybe next life he' ll try harder | |
| Died a martyr at the hands of the firestarter | |
| More scripts ripped available for via barter | |
| Transport a stack to the lab via charter | |
| On the microphone he came to daze and amaze ya' | |
| What a guy, practice banging flies with razors | |
| And watch out for the robot, he got eyes with lasers | |
| Tell ' em when they come with more topics besides blazers | |
| Enough with the guns already, they' re all toys and lames | |
| The joy' s in the aim, he asked him, how' s ya' poison game? | |
| Do you bust your crossbow? Also, more so | |
| Accurate body blows to torso, thought so | |
| These flows you won' t find in no " howto" | |
| If the blacksmith doubt you, he smack the shit out you | |
| Make nothing gone, let nothing twitch | |
| Just don' t be near the mic when the onbutton switch | |
| V bring the beef like a trucker to Fuddrucker | |
| Delivery to all y' all motherfuckers and bloodsucker | |
| Copping more pleas than when a rap nigga bicker on | |
| And that' s my word is bond, I think he call it " Lickupon" | |
| Umm, he wrote this one with a fever sick in bed | |
| With his dickhead inside a chickenhead | |
| No, a dead chicken' s head, he said it help his nausea | |
| If he lost ya', wait ' til he tell you about the flying saucer | |
| Dag, the kickback' ll leave your wig ragged | |
| For a big bag of good grizzle and some ZigZag | |
| Survival, keep a rival in denial | |
| And bust what he get just for coming out his piehole | |
| Die calmer than a suicidebomber | |
| V just the type to do a hooride with momma | |
| Said to James Bond, my name is Viktor, Viktor Vaughn | |
| Told the chick the quickest way to get on, lickupon |
| Confirmation of your worst fears | |
| Ever since his first years had a thirst for beers | |
| Back from the future, it' ll make you more soberer | |
| And brought back a long list of fakers who crossed over | |
| I' m like, fuck it, bubbleballer | |
| Catch ' em up at Bob' s show, stall him with a troubled caller | |
| Bastard, who could make G' s faster | |
| Than a newly remastered while being truly plastered | |
| There' s four sides to every story | |
| If these walls could talk, they' d probably still ignore me | |
| Contemplate war over a cup of warm coffee | |
| It' s really getting gory, tell your problem to Maury | |
| Don' t bore V with the " glory, halleluey" | |
| Crews be like, fooey he' s just a buncha hooey | |
| I knew he had new G, who he? Viktor Vaughn | |
| He had a new sicker song, I think he call it " Lickupon" | |
| Umm but uh, he study rhymes and patterins | |
| Climb so steep sometimes the beat don' t be mattering | |
| Sounded like a halfdead from Scurvy band rock | |
| A programmed, computer biografted Herbie Hancock | |
| Maybe next life he' ll try harder | |
| Died a martyr at the hands of the firestarter | |
| More scripts ripped available for via barter | |
| Transport a stack to the lab via charter | |
| On the microphone he came to daze and amaze ya' | |
| What a guy, practice banging flies with razors | |
| And watch out for the robot, he got eyes with lasers | |
| Tell ' em when they come with more topics besides blazers | |
| Enough with the guns already, they' re all toys and lames | |
| The joy' s in the aim, he asked him, how' s ya' poison game? | |
| Do you bust your crossbow? Also, more so | |
| Accurate body blows to torso, thought so | |
| These flows you won' t find in no " howto" | |
| If the blacksmith doubt you, he smack the shit out you | |
| Make nothing gone, let nothing twitch | |
| Just don' t be near the mic when the onbutton switch | |
| V bring the beef like a trucker to Fuddrucker | |
| Delivery to all y' all motherfuckers and bloodsucker | |
| Copping more pleas than when a rap nigga bicker on | |
| And that' s my word is bond, I think he call it " Lickupon" | |
| Umm, he wrote this one with a fever sick in bed | |
| With his dickhead inside a chickenhead | |
| No, a dead chicken' s head, he said it help his nausea | |
| If he lost ya', wait ' til he tell you about the flying saucer | |
| Dag, the kickback' ll leave your wig ragged | |
| For a big bag of good grizzle and some ZigZag | |
| Survival, keep a rival in denial | |
| And bust what he get just for coming out his piehole | |
| Die calmer than a suicidebomber | |
| V just the type to do a hooride with momma | |
| Said to James Bond, my name is Viktor, Viktor Vaughn | |
| Told the chick the quickest way to get on, lickupon |
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