cage - underground rap star (post-mortem remix) lyrics
[intro]
every rapper in the house, shut the f+ck up
every rapper in the house, shut the f+ck up
every rapper in the house, shut the f+ck up
don’t go against the weathermen
you gonna get f+cked up
[verse 1]
and i ain’t f+cked up now, bluffing the basics
lead stuff in the asics from that kid puffing the matrix
i let my brain cells fight it out until the lighter out
you ain’t even got hands to hold the guns you write about
ain’t got a heater. meanwhile, cage be wanting four fifths
i stay putting it down and don’t come off this
accomplice not needed, spray dolo with more
letter combinations in my blood than k+solo
lsd, thc, pcp
the only three left i need’s ged
you know you can’t stand the manic
even if you don’t get the picture, the point of view’s still panoramic
chemical organic, leaf is clouding
get your contact cracking in three plus two thousand
[hook]
this is federal hate the dead are awake the medical’s great
this is the life of a underground rapstar
get lots of brain but the birds are vain and peck at anything
this is the life of a underground rapstar
you spit it you bit it and then you got your car kitted, you get it?
this is the life of a underground rapstar
travel on somebody else’s dime and can still pull out the nine
this is the life of a underground rapstar
[verse 2]
this is my brain on drugs these are the drugs on my brain
i stab the sh+t out of clyde just like i bludgeoned his dame
after i f+cked her insane
s+x pistol got a chest to spray
the f+ck you think? my identity was born yesterday?
been the prince elite since the purple rain was in the street
i parted the projects for that sea of sulphur you seek
and the beam on my gun matched the drink in my glass
that’s incredible hulk, l!cked on her incredible ass
liquid, kids, snake plissken driftin’ and tear off
escape from new york and come back when the ‘shish wear off
personality pair off til my skin frays
been off for ten days feel like two still light blue
the black ferrari bed
ain’t forgivin a ho for givin’ up sorry head
vintage electronic, atari wet
labels try to hype you up like you goin’ fight royce
like def jam f+cked around and signed the wrong white boy
[hook]
this is federal hate the dead are awake the medical’s great
this is the life of a underground rapstar
get lots of brain but the birds are vain and peck at anything
this is the life of a underground rapstar
you spit it you bit it and then you got your car kitted, you get it?
this is the life of a underground rapstar
travel on somebody else’s dime and can still pull out the nine
this is the life of a underground rapstar
this is the life of a underground rapstar
this is the life of a underground rapstar
this is the life of a underground rapstar
this is the life of a underground rapstar
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