I Got A Seecret - Redman

Damn

Ladies.

and gentlemen

I got a secret

Somebody told me yo’ass stink!

Don’t blame me!

Hah, what, huh.

Ah, one two three four

Huh, huh, yo Huh, yo yo yo yo yo yo

(c'mere baby)

Yo, yo yo, yo yo, yo Yo huh

Yeah yi-yeah, these metaphors be broad

Take the Shanks out of Shaw Redemption and hold it to your jaw

Climb aboard, jump out the ninety-ninth floor

That bitch on the salt box, know when I rain I pour

Shoot up the Mardi Gras with double chrome forty-fours

Full up plates, cause someone I’m ready to take yours!

Jungle music got my mind and body stimulatin

Hyperventilatin, you’re talk of the town like date rapin

Call me the Doc-casian Spot, The Beatles

Malfunction in the SL Board without the EQ

Fuck fuck fuck bitch I’ll bust a nut all over that gut

Buck buck buck souflee you lay you then I’m hittin that clutch

in da black truck, what, fuck yo’back up My dubs be filled with dust when I bust you definitely feel

the rapture.

ha ha.

HA HAH.

HA HAH!

Aiyyo!

Feel what I feel, see what I see son

Break your neck -- secretly blown, talico style Doc

Trace the sketch -- according to verbal recording hot

Bricks underground detox fuck up farm crops

Yo beautiful!

Cut the cabbage and sell it as pharmeceuticals

I react — the baddest juvenile bite off his cuticles

I’m stone, to the bone, flip poems that roam further

I serve the murder then beef it to ham-burger

Knowin god damn well that’s hard to spit

Fans call me mix tape arsonist, marvelous, in the hood

Everyday, wanna star?

Check an astrologist

Fuck fuck fuck bitch I’ll bust a nut all over that gut

Buck buck buck souflee you lay you then I’m hittin that clutch

You know, papi chulo with the fucked up grammar

So much spanish ass, niggaz think I own Copa Cabana

Shot up Santa, got more tools than, Hanna Barbera, check it The clues I left was hard for cops to Etch-a-Sketch it Serial killer that tracks pussy in every borough

Kidnap ya, tie ya down, drug ya, kiss the girls

Klack automatics no matter the pressure the static (KLACK)

I blow you by two miles, cut my lights and hit the hazards

Fatal, duckin from pussy police in LeSables

Biggest thing since getting earrings pierced in your navel

High, Funk Doc, Roni Size keep the herb twistin

And now get the Ampegs real hot like jerk chicken

Ha ha.

alright one more time.

(c'mere baby)