Harsh Truth
Yeah! (one)
As we proceed to give you what you need
(One, two...)
It's all fucked up now
What the fuck y’all gonna do now?
Back with Andre the Giant, Mr. Elephant Tusk
Fix your musk, you'll be just another one bit the dust
Just one of my mother's sons who got thrown under the bus
Kiss my butt, lick fromunda cheese from under my nuts
It disgusts me to see the game the way that it looks
It’s a must, I redeem my name and haters get mushed
Bitches lust, man, they love me when I lay in the cut
Fisticuffs, the lady give her eighty-some paper cuts
Now picture us; it's ridiculous, you curse at the thought
'Cause when I spit the verse the shit gets worse than Worcestershire sauce
If I could fit the words, it's picture perfect, works every time
Every verse, every line, as simple as nursery rhymes
It's elementary, the elephants have entered the room
I venture to say we're the center of attention, it's true
Not to mention back with a vengeance, so hence the signal
Of the bat symbol, the platinum trio's back on you hoes
Sometimes I feel like it’s so hard for me
To come up with shit to say, ayy
I’m at a loss for words, 'cause y’all already said it all
I think I'm runnin' outta clichés
I'm gettin’ writers block
'Cause sometimes I feel like it's so hard for me
To come up with shit to say, ayy
I'm at a loss for words, 'cause y'all already said it all
I think I'm runnin' outta clichés
I'm gettin' writers block
(Sometimes, sometimes, sometimes)
I put a kick in the backbones of clones with microphones
Never satisfy my rhyme jones
Spraying bright day over what you might say
My blood type's Krylon, technicolor type A
On highways, bright with road rage
Pages of wind in cages of tin that bounce all around
(Surround sound) Devouring the scene
Subliminal gangrene paintings, overall the same thing
Sing-song karaoke copy bullsh**
Break bones verbally with sticks-and-stone tactics
Fourth dimension combat convention
Write rhymes at ease while the track stands at attention
Meant to put you away, with a pencil pistol official
Sixteen-line, the rhyme missile
While you risk your all, I pick out all your flaws
Spittin' rah blah blah blah, you can say you some-
Sometimes I feel like it's so hard for me
To come up with shit to say, ayy
I'm at a loss for words, 'cause y'all already said it all
I think I'm runnin' outta clichés
I'm gettin' writers block
'Cause sometimes I feel like it's so hard for me
To come up with shit to say, ayy
I'm at a loss for words, 'cause y'all already said it all
I think I'm runnin' outta clichés
I'm gettin' writers block
(Sometimes, sometimes, sometimes)
My mind state, raise the crime rate
Break a whole brick down for old times sake
Push an avalanche, the alpine shake
The coupes, vanilla beam
Deceased as pound cake
In my condo bitches with tatties on
Walls full of mirrors, heaven for it at it long
My life the fast lane, getting my Andretti on
Blow it all, you can't take it when you dead and gone
You can't hide it, I smell the fear
I can't either, you smell a millionaire
All crack money, now rap money
Poor platinum n***as, fuckin' rap dummies
I rap mummies, that's kilograms
My brother's keeper like Nino's man
That's G money, ghetto D money
1996, Master P money, gone
Sometimes I feel like it's so hard for me
To come up with shit to say, ayy
I'm at a loss for words, 'cause y'all already said it all
I think I'm runnin' outta clichés
I'm gettin' writers block
'Cause sometimes I feel like it's so hard for me
To come up with shit to say, ayy
I'm at a loss for words, 'cause y'all already said it all
I think I'm runnin' outta clichés
I'm gettin' writers block
(Sometimes, sometimes, sometimes)
As we proceed to give you what you need
(One, two...)
It's all fucked up now
What the fuck y’all gonna do now?
Back with Andre the Giant, Mr. Elephant Tusk
Fix your musk, you'll be just another one bit the dust
Just one of my mother's sons who got thrown under the bus
Kiss my butt, lick fromunda cheese from under my nuts
It disgusts me to see the game the way that it looks
It’s a must, I redeem my name and haters get mushed
Bitches lust, man, they love me when I lay in the cut
Fisticuffs, the lady give her eighty-some paper cuts
Now picture us; it's ridiculous, you curse at the thought
'Cause when I spit the verse the shit gets worse than Worcestershire sauce
If I could fit the words, it's picture perfect, works every time
Every verse, every line, as simple as nursery rhymes
It's elementary, the elephants have entered the room
I venture to say we're the center of attention, it's true
Not to mention back with a vengeance, so hence the signal
Of the bat symbol, the platinum trio's back on you hoes
Sometimes I feel like it’s so hard for me
To come up with shit to say, ayy
I’m at a loss for words, 'cause y’all already said it all
I think I'm runnin' outta clichés
I'm gettin’ writers block
'Cause sometimes I feel like it's so hard for me
To come up with shit to say, ayy
I'm at a loss for words, 'cause y'all already said it all
I think I'm runnin' outta clichés
I'm gettin' writers block
(Sometimes, sometimes, sometimes)
I put a kick in the backbones of clones with microphones
Never satisfy my rhyme jones
Spraying bright day over what you might say
My blood type's Krylon, technicolor type A
On highways, bright with road rage
Pages of wind in cages of tin that bounce all around
(Surround sound) Devouring the scene
Subliminal gangrene paintings, overall the same thing
Sing-song karaoke copy bullsh**
Break bones verbally with sticks-and-stone tactics
Fourth dimension combat convention
Write rhymes at ease while the track stands at attention
Meant to put you away, with a pencil pistol official
Sixteen-line, the rhyme missile
While you risk your all, I pick out all your flaws
Spittin' rah blah blah blah, you can say you some-
Sometimes I feel like it's so hard for me
To come up with shit to say, ayy
I'm at a loss for words, 'cause y'all already said it all
I think I'm runnin' outta clichés
I'm gettin' writers block
'Cause sometimes I feel like it's so hard for me
To come up with shit to say, ayy
I'm at a loss for words, 'cause y'all already said it all
I think I'm runnin' outta clichés
I'm gettin' writers block
(Sometimes, sometimes, sometimes)
My mind state, raise the crime rate
Break a whole brick down for old times sake
Push an avalanche, the alpine shake
The coupes, vanilla beam
Deceased as pound cake
In my condo bitches with tatties on
Walls full of mirrors, heaven for it at it long
My life the fast lane, getting my Andretti on
Blow it all, you can't take it when you dead and gone
You can't hide it, I smell the fear
I can't either, you smell a millionaire
All crack money, now rap money
Poor platinum n***as, fuckin' rap dummies
I rap mummies, that's kilograms
My brother's keeper like Nino's man
That's G money, ghetto D money
1996, Master P money, gone
Sometimes I feel like it's so hard for me
To come up with shit to say, ayy
I'm at a loss for words, 'cause y'all already said it all
I think I'm runnin' outta clichés
I'm gettin' writers block
'Cause sometimes I feel like it's so hard for me
To come up with shit to say, ayy
I'm at a loss for words, 'cause y'all already said it all
I think I'm runnin' outta clichés
I'm gettin' writers block
(Sometimes, sometimes, sometimes)