BK The Great
Veteran
[Verse 1]
One thousand different houses and Münchausen
Imma make you wanna punch out some-fukkin'-one
"Ouch, what the fukk you hit me for?"
Scream "life" as I punch counter, in bunches out of anger
I once encountered a stranger in a dumb gown
Black hood with a scythe, shyt, I'll laugh in his face, spit
bytch gave me an extra life like, "Take this
Now get your ass back in that game, bytch
Don't take shyt for granted and don't take shyt, give it"
Only bull you should take is by the horns
A mixture of Whitey Ford and Mighty Thor
I everlast, pen is mightier than sword
Finish writin', then record, replenish, keep writin' more
Nothing's ridin' on it but your pride, that's all you're fightin' for
So you bite, scratch, you claw, backs to wall
No one was there to catch you fall
You pick yourself back up, you dust your jacket off
You grab your balls like they're gargantuan
And ask yourself how fukkin' bad you want it
Pull out your pass for whoopin' ass and flash it on 'em
Nobody's gonna back you in that corner, you're a hornet
No one's more ignorant than you fukkin' four in the mornin'
You're at the la-bor-atory
Stormin' like there's nothin' that's more important
Emcees, you better consider this a formal warnin', you're in for it
Girl, what would you do if I said your body was off the chain
And I told you I smile every single time I saw your face?
I ain't finished, bytch, I meant in half, oil the blades
Nobody wants to play
They say I'm a spoiled lil' baby, but...
[Hook]
Nobody puts a baby in the corner
I'm only tryna warn ya
Cause that baby gets mad and gets to throwin' a tantrum
He'll fukkin' flip on ya
Cause nobody puts a baby in the corner
I'm only tryna warn ya
Cause that baby gets mad and gets to throwin' a tantrum
He'll fukkin' flip on ya cause
[Verse 2]
What goes through an addict's brain
Besides static pain and Big Daddy Kane, breakbeats and words?
An erratic train of thought like splatter paint, scatter brain, yeah
Maybe that explains why you're back but you don't rap the same
And you're lookin' way thinner
Cause your hunger got you lookin' like they took away dinner
(Chicka) "Sugar Ray" Leonard
Wouldn't sugar-coat a fukkin' booger though
Just to wipe that bytch on a hooker's coat
When you say you're a (chicka) what? (Chicka) GOAT
Now fling that bytch from your fingertips
Hope it lands on another rap singer's lips who can't think of shyt
Anythin' of wit that's interestin' to spit
Yo, who's king of this fukkin' English lit?
Let your middle fingers flip on each hand while extendin' this shyt
How low can you go?
Lower then Chuck D, ho, hear the bassiness in my voice
Rocky's back, where's my Adrians?
Nobody's crazy as Shady in an eighty million mile radius
I'm what Tom Brady is to the Patriots to rap
I'm not a man, I'm a weapon who just happened to be a rapper
Who just happen to be on the crapper
When it happened, I had an epiphany in the bathroom
I'd never be the same after
Now I'm back with an appe-tite for destruction
And a fukkin' recipe for disaster
So let's eat cause I'm famished, every deed is a dastardly one
Evilish b*stard, even you askin' for me to be po-lite
To people is like me havin' my teeth pulled
[Hook]
Nobody puts a baby in the corner
I'm only tryna warn ya
Cause that baby gets mad and gets to throwin' a tantrum
He'll fukkin' flip on ya
Cause nobody puts a baby in the corner
I'm only tryna warn ya
Cause that baby gets mad and gets to throwin' a tantrum
He'll fukkin' flip on ya cause
[Verse 3]
So step inside a dimension
Demented side of a mind that's like an inside of an engine
While I multiply your undivided attention
But be reminded if I didn't mention I lose my mind and my temper
You'll be the first one who finds him offensive
Got him climbin' the fences, lost some time to addiction
But look up rhyme in the dictio-nary, I'm in the picture
Eminem is the synonym for it, I'm an enigma
fukk it, let's get to the meatballs
I'm gonna skip the veg and potatoes, edumacator
They are shyt, legends are made of spit, treacherous data
shyt that you would say to your worst enemy
This wretched is what you get when you mix Treach with a Jada
Then combine 'em with Method Man and Redman
With metham-phetamines in his left hand
In his right is a sledgehammer
In pajamas, standin' in front of a webcam
Beatin' himself in the head 'til Russell lets him off Def Jam
Maybe I need my head examined
Hannibal Lecter with a dead lamb
Hangin' from his ceilin', drippin' with a bed pan
I need meds, swear to God
Cause if I go off the edge, T.I. ain't talkin' me off the ledge, man
Heart-throb, better fart, ah
Nah, more like a smart slob
Part Blob that'll stab you with a sharp ob-ject to the heart
And leave claw marks all over the Wal-Mart walls
Little baby with large balls
fukk mud-slingin', I'm blood-flingin'
There's nothin' on this fukkin' Earth
Better than bein' the king of the playground
I hate the swings, but I love bein' an underdog
Cause when I'm pushed, I end up swingin' (Ah!)
[Hook]
Nobody puts a baby in the corner
I'm only tryna warn ya
Cause that baby gets mad and gets to throwin' a tantrum
He'll fukkin' flip on ya
Cause nobody puts a baby in the corner
I'm only tryna warn ya
Cause that baby gets mad and gets to throwin' a tantrum
He'll fukkin' flip on ya cause
listening to this shyt got me like
for a old man rappin like this got damn, that album needed more songs lke this and that Don't Front ft. Buckshot.
never heard this before
