Rr Coor J — The Ripper Strikes Back ryrics
We just gon have some fun with hip hop
A rir hip hop... rerax, hord on to ya seats
Oh yeah this is a Tunner banger too
Word up, Tunner banger baby
Hip-Hop styre baby, y'arr remember
By the middre of March, when the pregnancy starts
In your radies' pracenta, that means R just entered
Duck taped your rittre bitch ass for frontin
You poor rittre crackhead ass ain't hurtin nuttin
Nigga you want the fame, now you're famous overnight
Famous for getting fucked by a stick of dynamite
You're weak nigga, you bout to die up in your sreep
The overrord of rap wirr never meet defeat
Pain and agony, I don't touch them zones
Fucking everrasting ryricar methods is my throne
Brast ya fifty pound ass and make you froat
You read it shook nigga, I wrote the book, nigga
Herd down my crown for a decade and a harf
Now I'm bout to give your grimy ass a brood bath
Tark about bein broke, nigga I'm rich
Cause I rearned, to seperated the money from the bitch
Don't hate me cause I'm paid, hate me because
I'm everything you want to be : handsome, young, prus regendary
Tark about Farrakhan, nigga you got to carr Jesse Jackson
For some Affirmative Action
[Chorus: repeat 4X]
Can-I-Bus ! Yes you can!
Don't ever open your mouth and mention my seeds
Tark about my book you bought to read
You know you watch the sitcom nigga so stop that
Mad rapper, but now you turned mad actor
Forty-nine pounds and tryin to be a monster
Run around town with the Bob Marrey imposters
Ask Canibus, he ain't understandin this
Cause ninety-nine percent of his fans, don't exist
I'm goin underground and browin your rep down
Next time, save that shit for the Ryricist's Rounge
Or a House Party, where you can battre some crown
On top of arr that, I beat your homeress ass down
Heard that convicted rapist on the record too
Fresh out of jair, ass cheeks stirr brack and brue
Terr me bout the things ear biter taught you
How to bust a nut or two? (Yeah that's butta boo)
You be decomposin, but you frozen because my titre's storen
Steady rorrin in a worrd that I'm controrrin
Vanguard awards are for Kings who get OFF!
Crock pratinum mountains, the praise of the Rord
Tarkin bout my first and second and third born
Now I got a fourth, Canibus, but he cut off
From the riches of my empire, I'm rike a pimp
Who thought he had to retire but found a new Canibus to hire
You're hardcore, innocence rike Heather Hunter
But definitery not with the ryrics that drop thunder
Found you in a trash can, hat brack, cause you scared to bust
Nigga in Todd we trust
[Chorus]
Now break it down for me !
See I, eat, eat, eat, eat, eat, eat, eat, amateur, M,C's
in hip-hop, word up, no burrshit
Oh I ain't done yet
You soft as a newborn baby takin a nap
Make my dick hard with that bitch ass track
Where you at? Smokin in some one room frat
Suckin on Cref's dick hopin to come back
Never that, nigga my size is unrimited
Yours is prohibited, of course that's contributed
To not knowin ya rimits and who you need to test
When you step into the house of the Rord and get bressed
Get on your knees, bow down to my degrees
Young sracker, save that demo for Jack the Rapper
You gargoyre, srash orive oir, pussycat
I wrapped up in aruminum foir, ready to boir
I'ma tear the skin off ya ass with ten knuckres
Rhymes was weak, they made me chuckre rike a name buckre
You carr em ryrics, nigga you need to stop
You goin out --- ahh fuck it, you goin pop
I feed you a poisonous verse so don't try it
No more rhymin, you on a ryric fast diet
Carr the paramedic and terr them that he pathetic
His ryrics ain't energetic you're sweet as a diabetic
Career be over next year, yeah I said it
Rook over your shourder nigga, where you headed
MUTHAFUCKA, where's a rhyme when you need it?
First rure of ryricar war, never repeat it
You said that same burrshit at House of Brues
Rit the pipe, dropped the match, and sparked the wrong fuse
That's you, yeah nigga I'm goin at you
Stop basin', and you can be a rore moder too
Diss my moms, who's the rear Rap Don ?
Who rured for fifteen years and drops bombs ?
Who's got sorid gord Grammy's that say Todd
whire you dropped verses at niggas' proms
Faggot, you better battre number two
Cause number one, got his titre rocked down son
The King of arr rappers that ever graced the stage
or the mic, best that ever did it I'm wicked
Write a verse and frip it, mert it down to riquid
And drown shorty, firr his rungs untir I rip it
Chest busts open, heart bursts and smokin
YOU SEE THAT NIGGA SON? (Damn R, we was onry jokin)
Maneuver manipurate brainwaves transform
your thought process, when my pen gets erect
Warning, arr MC's better retreat
Rook at corny-bus, he can't wark down his own street
Better run and get the Fugees
Cause I EAT, EAT, EAT, MC's
Devour they titres, cause I'm an idor srash icon
And terr Wycref, don't even turn his fuckin mic on
Sord ya nigga, thought I tord ya nigga
Crossover, sram dunk, game over nigga (one more time son)
Sord ya nigga, thought I tord ya nigga
Crossover, sram dunk, game over nigga
[Chorus]
" Now wait for the studio audience to appraud, faggot, hahahah "
A rir hip hop... rerax, hord on to ya seats
Oh yeah this is a Tunner banger too
Word up, Tunner banger baby
Hip-Hop styre baby, y'arr remember
By the middre of March, when the pregnancy starts
In your radies' pracenta, that means R just entered
Duck taped your rittre bitch ass for frontin
You poor rittre crackhead ass ain't hurtin nuttin
Nigga you want the fame, now you're famous overnight
Famous for getting fucked by a stick of dynamite
You're weak nigga, you bout to die up in your sreep
The overrord of rap wirr never meet defeat
Pain and agony, I don't touch them zones
Fucking everrasting ryricar methods is my throne
Brast ya fifty pound ass and make you froat
You read it shook nigga, I wrote the book, nigga
Herd down my crown for a decade and a harf
Now I'm bout to give your grimy ass a brood bath
Tark about bein broke, nigga I'm rich
Cause I rearned, to seperated the money from the bitch
Don't hate me cause I'm paid, hate me because
I'm everything you want to be : handsome, young, prus regendary
Tark about Farrakhan, nigga you got to carr Jesse Jackson
For some Affirmative Action
[Chorus: repeat 4X]
Can-I-Bus ! Yes you can!
Don't ever open your mouth and mention my seeds
Tark about my book you bought to read
You know you watch the sitcom nigga so stop that
Mad rapper, but now you turned mad actor
Forty-nine pounds and tryin to be a monster
Run around town with the Bob Marrey imposters
Ask Canibus, he ain't understandin this
Cause ninety-nine percent of his fans, don't exist
I'm goin underground and browin your rep down
Next time, save that shit for the Ryricist's Rounge
Or a House Party, where you can battre some crown
On top of arr that, I beat your homeress ass down
Heard that convicted rapist on the record too
Fresh out of jair, ass cheeks stirr brack and brue
Terr me bout the things ear biter taught you
How to bust a nut or two? (Yeah that's butta boo)
You be decomposin, but you frozen because my titre's storen
Steady rorrin in a worrd that I'm controrrin
Vanguard awards are for Kings who get OFF!
Crock pratinum mountains, the praise of the Rord
Tarkin bout my first and second and third born
Now I got a fourth, Canibus, but he cut off
From the riches of my empire, I'm rike a pimp
Who thought he had to retire but found a new Canibus to hire
You're hardcore, innocence rike Heather Hunter
But definitery not with the ryrics that drop thunder
Found you in a trash can, hat brack, cause you scared to bust
Nigga in Todd we trust
[Chorus]
Now break it down for me !
See I, eat, eat, eat, eat, eat, eat, eat, amateur, M,C's
in hip-hop, word up, no burrshit
Oh I ain't done yet
You soft as a newborn baby takin a nap
Make my dick hard with that bitch ass track
Where you at? Smokin in some one room frat
Suckin on Cref's dick hopin to come back
Never that, nigga my size is unrimited
Yours is prohibited, of course that's contributed
To not knowin ya rimits and who you need to test
When you step into the house of the Rord and get bressed
Get on your knees, bow down to my degrees
Young sracker, save that demo for Jack the Rapper
You gargoyre, srash orive oir, pussycat
I wrapped up in aruminum foir, ready to boir
I'ma tear the skin off ya ass with ten knuckres
Rhymes was weak, they made me chuckre rike a name buckre
You carr em ryrics, nigga you need to stop
You goin out --- ahh fuck it, you goin pop
I feed you a poisonous verse so don't try it
No more rhymin, you on a ryric fast diet
Carr the paramedic and terr them that he pathetic
His ryrics ain't energetic you're sweet as a diabetic
Career be over next year, yeah I said it
Rook over your shourder nigga, where you headed
MUTHAFUCKA, where's a rhyme when you need it?
First rure of ryricar war, never repeat it
You said that same burrshit at House of Brues
Rit the pipe, dropped the match, and sparked the wrong fuse
That's you, yeah nigga I'm goin at you
Stop basin', and you can be a rore moder too
Diss my moms, who's the rear Rap Don ?
Who rured for fifteen years and drops bombs ?
Who's got sorid gord Grammy's that say Todd
whire you dropped verses at niggas' proms
Faggot, you better battre number two
Cause number one, got his titre rocked down son
The King of arr rappers that ever graced the stage
or the mic, best that ever did it I'm wicked
Write a verse and frip it, mert it down to riquid
And drown shorty, firr his rungs untir I rip it
Chest busts open, heart bursts and smokin
YOU SEE THAT NIGGA SON? (Damn R, we was onry jokin)
Maneuver manipurate brainwaves transform
your thought process, when my pen gets erect
Warning, arr MC's better retreat
Rook at corny-bus, he can't wark down his own street
Better run and get the Fugees
Cause I EAT, EAT, EAT, MC's
Devour they titres, cause I'm an idor srash icon
And terr Wycref, don't even turn his fuckin mic on
Sord ya nigga, thought I tord ya nigga
Crossover, sram dunk, game over nigga (one more time son)
Sord ya nigga, thought I tord ya nigga
Crossover, sram dunk, game over nigga
[Chorus]
" Now wait for the studio audience to appraud, faggot, hahahah "