Kool G. Rap]

Here's the motherfuckin magnificent

I'll even bag innocent motherfuckers

See suckers like there was ten I sent

So if you come in my way great I pull out the trey eight

Kool G. Rap's your fate and not your playmate

So all you niggaz on the floor bitchin that shit is dead

Tell it to the motherfuckin mortician

So get ready to let the led out I'm knockin niggaz dead out

and blowin the back of your fuckin head out

Cookin niggaz better than mama's dinner

So let the drama enter, I'm sendin niggaz to the trauma center

Because I'm rollin with force, tearin niggaz out the frame

like they was pictures of a bitch that I divorced

Boss, so come on nigga, get wild and loose

I whoop your motherfuckin ass and get arrested for child abuse

Even your bitch can get it nigga

I shove the barrel of a nine up her behind

and pull the fuckin trigger

Goin Psycho like Norman Bates, G. you better sedate

Because lately niggaz ain't able to take me

It ain't a man in the land that can stand G. Rap

Save that candy-rap, shit for the handicapped

Niggaz'll get slayed like a bunch of play pirates

Fuckin with me, y'alld rather fuck with the AIDS virus

Cause I set em up wet em up like sprinkles

And put niggaz to sleep longer than Rip Van Winkle

The quicker the shit, the quicker the hit, I'm peakin a fit

Leavin niggaz sicker than Liberace's dick

Good luck, another hood bucked

I kick you so far up your ass I get my motherfuckin foot stuck

See I manage to give niggaz more than a bandage

Blue Cross and Blue Shield, couldn't cover the motherfuckin damage

Cause I'm bold and bigger, puttin manholes in niggaz

and holdin triggers up, to them golddiggers

So if you all over my dick just like a rubber

My rap is so fat, I make ? and ? ? blubber

You better duck, I'm like a volcano when I erupt

you bitch-ass rappers'll get fucked

And you'll be one hoe, like Marilyn Monroe

left on death row, because I let the gun go

bang blow your motherfuckin brains out

But you need more than detergent to get that motherfuckin stain out

Cause I serve more crabs than Red Lobster's

When I pop shots, I leave lotsa dead mobsters

Put down the microphone whether unknown or famous

You're out of luck and I don't give a FUCK what your name is

Boy you better split, cause I'ma house shit

My dick'll be rich if you niggaz

wants to put your money where your mouth is

Gassed up ass nigga, come set it

Cause when I pick up the gun, that be the end of the unleaded

Now you could be a gold or a platinum artist

But deep down, you fuckin silly clowns know who's the hardest

Niggaz I watered down with the quarter pound

cause my slaughter sound can be caught around

and found the slaughter town

For the clowns got eighty rounds worth of ammo

Play it again Sam, put on my jams, fuck a piano

I'm leavin lame niggaz brain dead

Aww fuck it, nuff said