A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

ULTRAMAGNETIC M.C.S lyrics : "Pluckin Cards"

It doesn't take long for the nightmarish news
to sweep the world like a shockwave.
The mighty Man of Steel, once the superchampion, admired by billions

has proclaimed himself a wildman.
Afraid of going on an uncontrollable rampage at any moment.

[Kool Keith]

Hey yo stupid, you thought I was over

Living like Oscar, Big Bird and Grover
I'm the X the man the first challenger
I keep rhymes in place like Bob Gallagher

Fittin, and in the chair I'm sittin
Rappers know I'm Kool, rappers know I'm Keith
Like Charlie Brown, good grief

I see rappers I know they turned African
I just pedal my bike, then I laugh again
I pull the girls with thread and one string

They say I'm steppin to them for one thing
But I don't think so, you think so, really?
Tapes is wack and new MC's sound silly

I hate to criticize, I have a problem
In this school wack rappers I'll solve them
They wanna be like Ultra on the jizock

Try to act like they not but on the kizock
Suckin, takin, aw-ll be slurpin
Comical bums your wack jams ain't workin

You ain't got the style to rock no man
You get a pound from me, but with no hand
Diss em, I'm not the one Miss Ferguson

Cold stupid as hell like George Jefferson
Yeah, you dummies better be careful
I pick up rappers and throw away a handful

Yes... I'm

pluckin everyone's card (steppin to the man)


Twinkle twinkle twinkle little star

Behind those glasses I know who you are
You Racer X, here's rubber speed
You dissin James? He's chicken feed

He can't rap or clap or make a feet tap
How bout Monie and Nikki they both bullcrap
I see light in my lamp, but not on the mic

How could I diss myself in front of Dolemite
You wanna preach and teach and be a rebel
Then underline disguise and be the devil

Call yourself God, can you make it rain
Can you tell me how or what I'm thinkin in my brain
I'm not the bighead kid who wanna show off

I just pick up the mic and then I blow off
Dirt, crumbs, any type of feather
You ain't genuine, toyin real leather

Pleather, coming out in the weather
You rap on R&B tracks and whatever
Hi Uncle Tom, go head entertain

Dance and get sweaty, and let me use my brain
I think twice about the big bow tie
You wearin one? I wanna know why

I see fools all dressed in tuxedos
And at the Grammy's, a bag of Fritos
Dumb people wonder, dumb people think

Just to be large, do they have to wear a mink
Drive a Cadillac, drive a Benzo
A Rolls Royce with a funky Testarosso

I'd rather stay in New York and not Hollywood
Fool, I'm

pluckin everyone's card (steppin to the man)

You takin off and you're gold and for what?
Because you wanna be down and so what?
You buy your African beads from Koreans

Africans, you walkin by human beings
You don't know, you're so stupid
Take the books you read you're still stupid
Learn, see the rappers I burn
You're coming next, it's your turn

Let me sprinkle Salt, let me sprinkle Pepa
on doo-doo, and whatever
You wanna speak on the X, then let's go with this
I know I'm talented, good, and such a pro at this
Trade, skill, future my job

And at lunch I eat a rap shishkabob
You wanna spin with the real and make a big deal
Yes, you're in the showcase showdown
I hope you're ready to rock and come blow down
Huff, and puff, like the big bad wolf

I'm not the man concerned with that story
Look out, watch, you're Three Feet and Sinkin
The Tribe's are lost and everyone's breath stinkin
[Ahhh, to the crossroad]
Look at one man carry many loads

I gotta move enlighten a sleepy world
Remember, I'm

pluckin everyone's card (steppin to the man)
pluckin everyone's card (yell at the top of my lungs) (steppin to the man)

Hahahahaha, you can't even focus the energies of your own body
How can you hope to tuffle the God of War, against his will?

pluckin everyone's card (yell at the top of my lungs)

You're one of those peace loving folk singers
Errrrr, let her contend with this...

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