Natasha St-Pier

Natasha St-Pier - Il Ne Sait Pas lyrics

Yo, yo, yo (sick intentions)

Word up Yak Skywalker (sick intentions)

Balls (sick intentions)

[Verse 1]

I blast a page from thoughts cast away

Lettin off like a AK, equiped wit a full clip

but hollow tip bullets sent my finga on the trigga

sicka than tom green and a sinna god dressed as Hitler

It's Yak the Ripper, pay your respects or get dealt wit

but I ain't playin witta full deck

Sort of a prodigy, emcees drop quietly

Found wit espestice in they nose after the autopsy

Yo don't get vexed cause your whore jocks me

Coppin pleas for detox trynna xerox the raw copy

Step to the master and peace god it's over bee

If on an instrumental I see the bitch in you

Gimme a second and I'll tear out your ovaries

This is the code of the beat from the low key

scientist with the iron fist, who acts strange

Got a monkey in my lab witta virus that attacks brains

But I'm immune to it, see mine's polluted

to the point where sunnin kids ain't enough rappers get executed

Few understand the character behind the music

let alone try to meet my skill halfway

I'll cremate your little rap in a ashtray

Yo to all you muh'fuckers feminine like ballet

Yo take this as I dictate the script

You wanna battle? Don't take the risk just bear witness

and listen to the God as he blaze the shit

[chorus]

Sick intentions [x3]

Leave most MC's lost in my sentence

..

Fuck a four five you know how I'm rollin

Trip six rock and leave the mic smokin

Balls caroded disease and unleashin the demons

poses your frame you stop breathin

till the air is pleasin but softly killin ya

No mercy god, you given up

Those who tested me before remain inferior

It makes you sick, the plague's in your area

[Verse 2]

I spit a verse and the earth tilts in all

cause I twist the sinister add a beautiful metaphor

Watch how I manipulate the raw, sing along or bring it on

I write ya future till the ink is gone, word bond

Life is like growed tech scenes, operation stress cream

Worn out Guess jeans, hope flow and joke cluts

A million and one kids rhyme

and they all tryna sound like gold fronts

but they all tarnish they all garbage

I'm so dope you should go into comatose

cause too much of the voice will lead to overdose

It's heartless consider the issue wit ya conscious

twice before my squadron strikes embalms the mic

causing conflict crucially, cause musically

you just can't take the abuse, the juice is loose like Starburst

I flood ya brain witta million ball verse

and I demand your attention man

This is eons beyond your simple level of comprehension mind bendin, I'm sendin,

infects ya straight to your cranium quick

It makes you sick, it makes you sick

Duns get lit like indiglo

It's Yak Ballz your neighborhoods Deuce Bigalow

I leave em breathless like death kiss under the mistletoe

For real who think they seein me?

Better get a eye examination, so ill there is no vaxination

It's like masterbatin when I take off

load of stress out on paper

Just play the drum track and I'll slaughter it

Hold up first let me snatch the M-I

like it was helpless still kiddie in the orphanage

and make the hottest act on ya label feel subordinate

Have your dome pourest ya mind singing my chorus

Fuck a audience gods like this muh'fuckers on some shit

Yo it's about to pour just don't get caught in it

All you faggot deejay's, if you ain't got me on ya playlist

Incorporate this, shit is dangerous, contagious

My voice effects your cranium quick, it makes ya sick

[chorus x1]

Get this song at:  amazon.com sheetmusicplus.com

Share your thoughts

Comments