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laze - stuck lyrics

here i come with the f-cking lyrics to blow your mind up
rewind up the tape and watch the snake’s coil rattle
the battle is on, against brown foxes and obnoxious
lyricals not understandable street slang beyond comprehensible
i use dental tools to remove
the plaque in the back of your cranium
as i blow up like uranium, taking nas fools and disdaining them
saying “gotti” so many times, you’re gonna find me arraigning them
’cause the year of the hard, scarred emcee has p-ssed
present answers for the problems that you verbally har-ss
when the english language is all that’s hurt by your linguistics
the meaning? you missed it, check the purist, it’s
l-a-z and i plead the fifth letter
the go-getter, heavy sweater under pressure
hey — no keys or money g’s, please! f-ck the rock man
this kid’s more broker than a stock man, i got mad
bills, you thought i was ‘a say skills, that too, but i kill
ignorance with the flip of a frankincense to a bookmill
open my mind with the histories of cultures past
learn what they won’t teach me and see how long the vultures last
i coach this brain of mine to get rich like brandywine
there’s ground and i’m standing mine, never silent like a pantomime
breakin’ molds, p-ssing people off on my way on the up
they don’t like it? they getting f-cked by me on the go-go like huck-a-bucks
suck my ding-a-ling like chuck berry, that’s a scary thought
as i continue on the downlow… like mat cart-
er, i take a moment to prove the absurdity
in a foreign tongue that got more rhymes than a nursery
hey — who the f-ck is cursing me? i don’t give a motherf-cking f-ck
’cause i won’t get stuck in the rut of a gutter ’cause my sh-t’s b-tter
spread it on your bread, it’s the taste of my generation
‘causin’ perspiration on the brows of those with constipation
you’re getting stuck

who the f-ck you think you’re dealing with? know what the f-ck i’ve been through?
not a h-ll of a lot but i got sh-t locked down cooked like a barbecue
how hard are you? hey, got a minute to test yourself?
put yourself at the end of a loaded barrel and tell me if you wet yourself
why do you choose for tommy hil to represent your race?
when tommy is just an old–ss rich white guy with a smiling, wrinkly face
disgrace to the f-cking nation like hip-hop to timberlands
put your ear to my lips and let me tell you what you’ll find me in:
levi’s jeans too big for me when i wear my shirt out
and a bulky hooded sweatshirt to make it look like i work out
brothers thinking, “who’s he fooling with that thin -ss rear?”
and i wonder the same of those who are wearing five-hundred dollar gear
hip-hop is a lifestyle that i’ve lived since i was small
but these new jack foxy brown kids want to take it all
critics screaming “chuck d sold out, now he’s a f-cking zero”
but sh-t, chuck’s my man and you bet he’s my f-cking hero
i got the back of the folks that be pushed down into the muck
’cause they may be sticky in the mud but new jacks is getting stuck
they getting stuck.

stuck like a postage stamp i’mma mail that -ss to your producer
to show him who’s getting looser, more fluid than a juicer
your -ss is a food dehydrator making chips
but on this level i’m killing devils with this ol’ ill sh-t
a record deal down the road with a doper rhyme is a hope of mine
mountain brothers got signed to columbia, it’s about f-cking time
folks dragging they feet like they toes was breathing fire
while the rest of the nation watched in shock like electric wire
and who perspired? the kids who worked the hardest
but record labels seem to have a fetish for mainstream bullsh-t artists
f-ck the gimmick sh-t, i won’t be limited, b-tch
innovative styles for years with miles of tears from smiling peers
this ain’t no dog food disgusting imitation meat replacement
it’s the meatiest, roughest lyrical style this side of where you pay rent
as i rule the whole complex, but i don’t have one, just like chino x
i don’t need no s-x. f-ck that, i do, but i got restraint by inhaling paint fumes
i consume the high and turn it into talent
no alazay in this bloodstream i need to maintain my balance
i’ll tommy tippy toe to your apartment, to get sh-t started
with your woman as she’s telling me, “but he can’t help it if he’s r-t-rded!”
with this many songs under my belt i find the time to handle things
as i dismantle ming’s dynasty, i’ll die nasty as the band’ll sing
my praises doing covers of my songs from five years ago
compet-tion gets stuck as they struck with lyrical vertigo

[anon]
i get stuck in pounds of p-ssy regardless of its race
move from position to position like i was losing a race
stop on the breaks glance over your models and makes,
grab your goods and spread ’em
all over the place, disregard all warning signs
play you like dimes from an ounce, watch as i pounce
i’ll stick you, i stuck you, you’re out of luck
now, i just gave a f-ck about two minutes ago
like a sensation of pleasure unable to be measured, mix it with a beat
instantly get out of your seat
eat my marshmallows give daps to my fellows
deep like the gallows filled to the brim
good to the last time i dropped it, you make me sick
fake rhymes, repeated: i kicked it, so delete it
i got you stuck

- laze lyrics

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