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sly quota - hip-hop zombie type thing lyrics

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[verse 1: sly quota]

don’t give a f-ck, like my etiquette stained
these record labels wondering if they can get him contained
and on the mic i shine bright as thomas edison’s brain
or a neck with a chain, i’m getting fed up with lames
this, record sustains your mental ability
so sick; best to get me to a medic facility
i been on this villainy, he reckless and menacing
spit leaded weapons, dope as excederin medicine i
spit ’til i get fatlip(ped) like pharcyde
skin a rapper down to raw hides yelling “all rise”
i keep hitting beats ’til your whole squad die
i’m hocking up the freshest snot like i snort tide
and, i’m not popular so f-ck it
but don’t lie and say i’m not hot when i’m combusting
just stop with them -ssumptions, i’m topping all you dunces
and running nonstop like i’m dodging cops or something

[hook: sly quota & overdost]

i’m like rap’s b-st-rd love child
always stay buckwild son, f-ck mild
if you diss, then it’s bound to get drastic
this rap is coming back from its casket that
hip hop zombie type thing a right wing
bomb squad extremist so plea to jesus
frankenstein and doctor hyde’s combi-
nation rock monster, hip hop’s top martyrs

[verse 2: overdost]

i’m twisted in the head, hey, but i’m gifted in the bed wait
though i’m drifting in the left lane and i’m sniffing on some lead paint
sh-tting out my dead weight while i’m sifting through some red tape
shifting to the next grade, christened? can’t get saved
kristiaan is my best name, picking through my chest pain
p-ssed and i’m fisting religion wishing they’d quit, f-ck it let’s play
sipping delicious resentment expecting what may have never met change
slits are now pits how’s it feel while this is led stray?
kicking diseased dogs down, isn’t thinking he’s too hard now
limping with an injured hip, hops along but stops to believe in a god now
listen it’s a facade pal, missing a link is a job now
i’m twisted in the head, hey, but i’m gifted in the bed, wait
though i’m drifting in the left lane, and i’m sniffing on some lead paint
yea i’m sh-ttin out my dead weight, while i’m sifting through some red tape
see me shiftin to the next grade, christened? can’t get saved
kristiaan is my best name, pickin through my chest pain
p-ssed and i’m fistin religion, wishin they’d quit f-ck it let’s play
sippin delicious resentment expectin what may have never met change
slits are now pits how’s it feel while this is lead stray
kicking diseased dogs down, isn’t thinking he’s too hard now
limping with an injured hip, hops along but stops to believe in a god now
listen it’s a facade pal, missing a link is a job now
envision a tomb with your mind in it you are in line with a new plague of fraud now
lifting a used credit card while you’re pitching good souls in a carts pile
ditching them in a walmart’s aisle, giggling as they’re hauled off now
preposterous, apocalypse and the zombie fl!cks and the monsters with
their fraudulent flopping t-ts, obvious atheist’s lost vow

[hook: sly quota & overdost]

i’m like rap’s b-st-rd love child
always stay buckwild son, f-ck mild
if you diss, then it’s bound to get drastic
this rap is coming back from its casket that
hip hop zombie type thing a right wing
bomb squad extremist so plea to jesus
frankenstein and doctor hyde’s combi-
nation rock monster, hip hop’s top martyrs

[verse 3: sly quota]

yup, i’m k!lling sh-t like a tontine
zombie like erick arc, sicker than a quarantine
all my hip hop heads throw your hands in the air
your head spinning like a teenage linda blair
in a scare mc’s showing up ill prepared
i’m from the underground k!lling pairs of millionaires
from that sick hip hop squadron
spit snot and watch rappers hit rock bottom
i kick box all them, lyrically van dam-aging
enchant fans to trances while your mans and them, panicking
antics and shenanigans amped examples of rancidness
clan’ll spit some manic sh-t to get everyone in the stands to flip
and raise they’re hands and sh-t, spit not poppy for ice rings
sly villain and o.d. hip hop zombie type things

[hook: sly quota & overdost]

i’m like rap’s b-st-rd love child
always stay buckwild son, f-ck mild
if you diss, then it’s bound to get drastic
this rap is coming back from its casket that
hip hop zombie type thing a right wing
bomb squad extremist so plea to jesus
frankenstein and doctor hyde’s combi-
nation rock monster, hip hop’s top martyrs



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