(Intro) That's him over there, I can't really him I like him at all a mean...
(Verse 1) mean... and vicious! I can't he's that rude To stories, those rhymes, that Jew Then he put 'em on the like cat food (meow) Then put 'em on the like glue Then put 'em on ya like hat Hey to you, Lu Black power, I'm just runnin' wit a barrel full of powder Wit a hole in it, holdin' it, wheezin' deep, Runnin' from the fire on the trail I leavin' I can't shake it I swear, heat-seekin', I keep seekin' Somewhere to hide from it, Duck and dive it But it keep, keepin' up when I think that I've done it It keep, sneakin' up. Oh leakin' barrel of powder How that flame keep us? Just one of the rendered extended metaphors of Lu's This time I use the of a fuse to demonstrate How I can't lose, I put it down but I can't Due to the glue that I use to everything together Well I some on my hands and god damn! I might have to carry this Well I'm to the game 'til they bury me, insane!
(Chorus) There once was a boy that grew up on the side of Chicago his hat to the left side Wasn't in a but he was prone to bang Doin' his thang, doin' his There was a boy that grew up on the west side of liked his hat to the left side Wasn't in a but he was known to bang Now he's doin' his thang, his thang
(Verse 2) Truthfully I have trouble with verses the first one be so intimidating It be bullyin' pickin' on it Pointin' out all the second limitations like, You ain't but an imitation like bits of then he gets the chorus and the beat to get together they all gang up on 'em and get to hatin' But then around that 8th bar he of it so they conspire and and then he finds his To spar, he a few seconds of Judo lessons Gets back on beat, then punches the stand in awe like, When did you write even right black First already happened so he don't have a chance to fight back I that! Junior, check me You gon' respect me, track? Listen to 'em, himself up! And a few ad-libs to back it up Let's it up I you've had enough my mic back You ain't write that Oh it's like Track stop pumpin' til this stop frontin' Yeah, yeah now write
(Chorus)
(Verse 3) Oh my God! My and my odds! I ain't really here what you is a mirage! ain't the delivery baby, this is just Lamaze The ice cream and pickles, the and a massage The King Arthur of the Knight, El DeBarge The water in the distance, loggin' a camel to get there with a quickness, mean and Grinch who Christmas, and hid it in the garage That was a collage, a abroad all things that seem keen To help this start Jump jump! My charged I'm bout my green like beans and beings from Mars It's a mean thing to be with ours Got that F and F on me, I'm a young lil I resurrect homie, come back for my killa In some disheveled apparel with same leakin' barrel, it's on!
(Chorus)
mean... and vicious!