KWEST THA MADD LAD - Blase Blah (Off Tha Head) lyrics

Ursula, where you at?

Aiyyo Dan, where you at?

Yo, nobody in here but me and Taj

July 23rd, watch me do it

Now.. I flips like a stack of flapjacks from IHOP, when I rock

If a foe tries to flow, I cast the glow like I was Tim-ex

Ease through MC's like a breeze through the trees

He who disagrees please, hit the knees complain to deez

Well, you know the rest but might not know Kwest, pleased to meet you

If I defeat you at least you been beaten by the best

Yo.. dammmm SKIP I be riding my own dick

Those with that fly shit up in they head, get domes swollen quick

Competition best pray for repentance, can't mention my name

without one of these words in a sentence:

Fat, Live, Lovely, Butter -- Bad Nice

Nasty Wicked Raw yeah there's a lot of others

Don't really know where my flow comes from yo, I just think

Open my mouth and mmmmmm there it goes

On the real to get with this you must be fast

If your rhyme don't shine like mine, I get some bread for your dusty ass

You better exit cause boy it gets hectic and I start to flex kid

And wipe a big fat booger on your best shit

I mean, how can you be expected to step up and wreck shit

when the track was fat, but your raps is anorexic?

Word to my momma bring drama and get trauma I'm a heavy bomber

when I get a little bit of hit of marijuana

Quick to let the gun smoke, no joke so don't provoke

Ask Gimmy how the slimmy be, cause Gimmy got his neck broke

Takin props non stops is how I operate, Hobbes

My words stick witcha and fuck witcha like some transit cops

So I suggest you find God or somethin, cause like Whitney Houston said

"You have nothing, nothing, nothing for me!"

I kept it clean but it coulda got gory

You bore me there's the door G period end of story

Ooh, I like that.. now let's see what else we can get into

Now umm, A is for Apple, J is for Jacks

but I got more flavor than that shit so go get your money back

The skinny nigga's on the lam, so hold your daughter ma'am I WHAM!

I slice that ass so fast you'd think it was a Christmas ham

Shit gets flam when I start to rip shop, too large to drip-drop

So I pour, the more, hundred proof, type umm, hip-hop

Cute like a baby monkey lyrics got to be funky

Long and lanky kinky never stinky don't wanna get chunky

Pump me when I get out, cause without a di-doubt

You think I'm a maniac mobster the way I put hit after hit out

My A&R man tries to sham, he'll get his heart bit out

The company must have been constipated..

..cause it took em a long time to get my shit out!

But now that my product's on the market, it's time

for a new flame to spark it, and my target

is your ear, I wanna bust lyrical nuts on your drum

And I'll be comin on your brain cells when I come

Word up, sometimes I swear to GOD I think I'm a nut

The type to walk into a room full of diesel niggaz and scream "WHAT??!!"

Smoke a L, drink a Stout, then flip the fuck out

Runnin up on homeless people askin, "Who's in the house?"

Slick like Olive Oyl so tell Popeye to go up on the pu-tay

I can get peppy or sleepy but not wimpy like Bluto

I get scrappy with a script flipped here, a script flipped there

Here a script, there a script

til you be like, "That kid's the shit!"

I know where my hoes goes when the hoes clothes goes off

Go to a show and show my flow off for dough but never flow a doze-off

Oh, wanna hear some shit that's funny? I'm SO skinny

that if I sent my picture to Somalia, they'd send me money

Hula-hoop with a Cheerio and I can probably dodge raindrops

If I had dreads I could be a mop, okay enough brain STOP

Wear my jeans droopy cause I'm not lacking in the Snoopy

Never had a hooptie already got a group of groupies

Either catch me girl hawkin, shoppin party stalkin

or on the phone talkin, or checkin the latest raps on my Walkman

Slide up in the clubs with BUTTER shit on

See how many hookers I can hit on

If there's a mic I'm like, "Can I get on?"

Finessin with no type of stressin, peeps be requestin Kwest

in every session but I gotta ask a few questions

before I get in, or I Jet-son, hey yo George

How's the spot, is it hot, is it well done, is it raw?

What's the four one one on hotties? Do they got bodies?

Someone gettin bizem with ism or smoke is there Coke and Bacardi?

Is security loose like a hoe or tighter than a virgin?

Can I risk bringin a biscuit or can my shorty get hers in?

Yo that's how it runs it's all about gettin loot, gun, hons and fun

from down sun to up sun

Can't forget the lyrics cause that's my bread and butter, I make bread

when I'm butter and wicked like a muhhhhhhhhhfucka!

The nucca's top choice, even though I got tight-drop voice

Rhymes tasty like Duncan-Hines, I puts lots of funk in mines

No real reason for this rhyme, but then again it is a rhyme

without reason, big up to Southside and Riker's Isle, guess I'll be breezin

That's how it goes, July 23rd

I flip shit and remember alla that was off the top of the domepiece kid

Big shout out to everybody from Southside, 105, 106, Liberty, Suston?

Baisley? and all that, and I'm up out this piece

Representin kid, representin