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3rd Bass
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Sons of 3rd Bass
作词:Michael Berrin, Sam Citrin, Peter J Nash
Here's my advice to all amateurs planin' to give a performace Speak up, and keep the act movin'
Servin' the role, a sole step child Talk of C.C. or keep sleepin' While wakin' up to noise of 3rd B A S S, bass Success is butter for Serch's space
Spoken slang gets played like the lottery Your lyrics are incorrect, so you step to me Lookin' for the key to release that first piece Three times two is six, Pete is one-three
I'm the other half, known as the other trey Tourin' to wild screams, the third son's born Swarm to the lyrics 'cause Serch is your father Screamin' 'Hey ladies', why bother?
Sons, slim ones flee from the 3rd Words, spoken, a silver spoon stuck in the throat Young useless, lyrically careless Rhyme revolves around modes of mindless
If everyone spoke of stick-up, it's pick of a beast' Prone to a lick of a waste Taste the flav' of the original Orphaned trio, abandoned by lyrical
Through us, the echelon exposed with the roll with no soul Counterfeit style, born sworn and sold Out with high voice distorted If a beast to wish play fetus, I'd have him aborted
Put to bed, three kids to a third track Cap the front and grip, when they heard that The crew from the L.Q. stepped to the Club Mars Shook the beast and soon to be dubbed stars
Starrin' roles stone-faced from the brothers 更多更详尽歌词 在 ※ Mojim.com 魔镜歌词网 Ludicrous whinin', meanin' when the others Stand by 'em, while they take the fall The beast now lives in the capital
Record wrecks sets, Def Jam a true wrecker The label is nothin' but MC Black 'n' Decker Three boys buggin' to the A.M You step to the Serch and I slam
Negative mind, paid as snakes who can't rhyme Play the dude it's sucker time I stand I take a bust in my nut And gave birth to three bastard sons
A record label, a king to 4th letter Passin phases, non-legitimate trendsetters Pop figures who figured they'd get paid Exploitin' art the black man made
Played out hardcore flaws, step to stage Your biggest fan, nine years of age Broke out 'cause the swindler took your Ducat No talent on the tune, you might as well suck it
Yo Serch, you know about that slum I'm speakin' on? Word is Bond Pete, school 'em You know about that silver spoon havin' Buckshot acne showin', L.A. weak-ass sellout
Non-legitimate, tip-doggin', Jethro pseudo intellectual Dust-smokin', pretty boy playwrite posin' Folks wiggin', whinin' annoyin' Def Jam reject Devil White bread no money havin' slum village people clonin' step children
Sam sever, serve the rest Yo Sam, school 'em He is stupid but he knows that he is stupid And that, almost makes him smart let's listen
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