time machine (los angeles & rhode island hip hop group) - @$hole lyrics
time machine ft. edan – “@$$hole”
[emcee(s): jaysonic, edan, and comel 15]
[producer(s): edan]
[verse 1: jaysonic]
find yourself in a pickle. where’d that dill come from? they said
“no weapons in the party,” but you still brung one, ‘cause
that ain’t no noisemaker tucked into your waist, and that
loud, booming sound ain’t the subwoofer b-ss. the party
people came for fun, but your uzi weighs a ton, and
you’re cruising for a bruising ‘cause you’re snoozing on hon with a
razor in her weave, so when you asked her to leave, you couldn’t
take “no” for an answer and her gold you retrieved. chain-
-sn-tching? don’t you know that sh-t is out of fashion?
here comes the cousin it, and he’s down for “monster mashing”
picked up a barstool, but then he pulled out a tool and he
laughed (“’cause you played yourself”) like a fool. pis-
-tol-whipped with your very own pistol grip, plus
a bonus buck fifty from your ‘round-the-way chick
people started to dip, but when they saw you get hit, they flipped
the script to get in their own punches and kicks. a bl–dy
pulp on floor. what a sight. the eyes closed. secu-
-rity said, “thanks, y’all, for doing my ch-r-s.” dragged
you out to the alley with the urine and rats. ain’t sh-t
funny still, money? man, we had to laugh
[hook: sample from [?] – “[?]”]
because you played yourself just like an -sshole
because you played yourself just like an -sshole
because you played yourself just like an -sshole
because you played yourself just like an -sshole
because you played yourself just like an -sshole
because you played yourself just like an -sshole
because you played yourself just like an -sshole
because you played yourself…
[verse 2: edan]
feeling alienated, i’ll move through the crowd
the bullsh-t, i tuned it out, but, still, i’ll do the rounds
i’ll do the pounds, the hugs, plus the cordial kisses
he’s at the bar, getting drinks. you’re trying to score the digits
all these people on the party scene is trying to f-ck
the venue got a reputation, so they’re lining up
i’ve seen, like, fifty brutes kick it to this pretty crew of
bitties who was getting attention from how the t-tties move
the world of witty fools trying to play it pretty smooth
but they was silly too and shallow like the kiddie pool
i’ll play the wall like a zen buddhist, a trend student
you’ve been stupid, trying to fondle on a fly model
that’s when the wine bottle shattered on the dance floor
i saw you laying on the ground with your pants torn
you copped a feel like a heel and got slapped cold
[hook: sample from [?] – “[?]”]
because you played yourself just like an -sshole
because you played yourself just like an -sshole
because you played yourself just like an -sshole
because you played yourself just like an -sshole
because you played yourself just like an -sshole
because you played yourself just like an -sshole
because you played yourself just like an -sshole
because you played yourself just like an -sshole
because you played yourself…
[verse 3: comel 15]
spent that pay-
-check on s-x on beaches, all the get-ups. spinning, vo-
-miting on that denim. where’s your boys when you f-ck? don’t want
you, and that’s called a [?]. wait, you done did what? where’s your
cellphone? i think you left it on that countertop fluff. down and
out, now you’re pointing fingers, saying i’m bugging out. i told
you beer, before, like it was [?] then guinness stout. i pray
you make it home safe. not in a ditch, having dreams, but there’s
a ten percent chance you make it there in one piece. i’m feeling
sorry if [?] if, in your pockets, was keys. do i
need to say more or read the next obituary? excuse
[?] you should have never set him off. his stomach
muscle’s this weak, representing your demeanor. you got
hit by a beemer. you punched some dents in his car. now you just
got a beef but now you came out your adidas. o
for one [?] going o for three. tell you’re
[?] gl-ss-eye at this point, but missing two teeth. came the
police, and now you’re going down with everyone, stink. there’s
four dudes, two desks. the jail door went “clink.” the four
dudes in the same crew, so on you they beat. you spent
the night on the floor. how comfortable is concrete? reserved
for -ssholes
[outro: sample from [?] – “[?]”]
because you played yourself…
Random Lyrics