da lench mob – guerillas in tha mist lyrics
come down and beware of the black fist
the guerillas straight m-th-rf-ckin’ killers in the mist
take a shot -buck buck- but you can’t forge
never thought you’d see n-gg-rs in the forest
don’t kick in the chorus just yet
’cause we ain’t made a mess yet
lench mob produce the best sh-t
comin’ real hard, man
b-mpin’ in your car, man
finally caught up with a devil named tarzan
swingin’ on a vine
suckin’ on a piece of swine
jiggaboo come up from behind
hit him with a coconut
stab him in his gut
push him out the tree
he falls right on his nuts
and just like epmd
i don’t like a b-tch
named j to tha a to the n-e
can’t wait to meet her
i’m gonna kill her
’cause that little motherf-ckin’ cheetah can’t hang with a guerilla
you try to pay me off with a banana
but jd is blacker than a city called atlanta
give me some elbow room, i need some elbow room
so i can boom shack-a-laka boom
that’s the sound of the twenty guage
lock us up and the lench mob can break out of any cage
you never even hear of this
i’m taking care of this
lench mob environmental terrorists
f-ck great ape and magilla
i’m a killa
magilla gorilla ain’t a killa
white boys like godzilla
but my super n-gg-r named king kong
played his -ss like ping-pong
so motherf-ckers get your ding-dong
or the bozac (what’s that?) d-ck and nut sack
so get your b-tts back from the black fist
cap peelers, the guerillas in the mist
va-voom, here comes a n-gg-r from the dark side
talking ’bout a brand new apartheid
south central, straight ghetto native
gotta show these devil motherf-ckers what i’m made of
yes, never smoke the sess
only hit the gautama buddha when i beat on my chest
i’m laying in a cut
i’m laying in a cut
i’m laying in a cut
’bout to shoot me a mutt (with what?)
with the boom ping ping
listen to the ill sh-t that i bring bring
nappy headed n-gg-r, coming out the mist
the smog, the fog, ice cube is my motherf-cking dog, yes
kicking pumps, smoking humps
the guerillas, rollin’ from deep in the b-mps
short dog got the motherf-ckin’ pump
and it’s true t-bone got the twenty-two
that’s how it’s done
so you better run yo’, run yo’
run your -ss out the jungle
’cause hear the guns go and we don’t miss
the lench mob, the guerillas in the mist
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