KOOL MOE DEE - Death Blow Lyrics

To the break of dawnTo the, to the, to theTimes up punkYea yea time to settle the scoreTo the break of dawn, another dumb moveHa, ha, ha this time it's over boyThis is me and you, head to head, let's goHere we go, beat down round 2Heads up punk 'cause it all comes down toMe and you, face to face, head to headMic to mic, I like the weak shit you saidTo the break of dawn, beats nitroLyrics weak, say goodnight 'choStar trek shades, man cut the jokeLet's get serious and go for brokeYou still got a lock on my jock like a pitbullVictor before you pull it off you thought mr. pitifulHere's some mouthwash, gYour mouth smells like my jockstrap, c-A-u-s-e, you're rhyme didn't mean? d-o-d-d? , junior moe deeStop biting, chewing, swallowingWho in the hell told you that you could do what you were doingRaise up son, I need jock reliefHere's a toothpick, now get my jock out your teethYou swallow it, yea, finish, burpNow let a real man go to work'cause I'm a whip you like your daddy, beat ya like a babySick ya like a dog, dropping lyrics wit rabiesCut ya like a knife 'cause you're nuthin but hypeYou slice and dice and ice twice for lifeI'm a treat ya like a hooker punk, change your clothesPut you on the streets wit ya jingling hoesKeep talking about me and I'll keep pimpingJust bring me that money and take this last whippingHow can one man be so dumbYou're trying to come off and don't know how to comeYou're young and dumb and quick at the tongueYou high strung bum come and get doneI'll do you wit a death blow(chorus)Kill 'em kill 'emI'll hit ya wit a death blowMy lyrical beatdown will leave ya in a coma'cause you can't hang without a high school diplomaYour brain of fatigue, you're out of your leagueYou're running out of gas and you're tank is on eSomebody buy him a heart 'cause he's petroTake you're whipping like a man brother let goNo apologies, tears of violenceGet your black suits 'cause I ain't smilingI'm shooting the gift of gab, brother you're ripped in halfSoon as the mic is past, you won't live to laughIf there's laughter, I'll get the last oneYou loafed on the lyrics and you caught a bad oneSo who's got no style, look at your profileYou can't dance, can't dress and you're so foulStill wearing played out 4 finger ringsPlayed out fat gold chains and thingsYou changed your look now change your gameplanTrying to dress but you still wear name brandBrother, you look crazy weakAnd it gets worse when we hear you speakSo you ain't got a chance in hellYou'll be known as the late llThe man who lost one, one too oftenCame wit a soft one and went to his coffinA close casket they won't show yaWhen I finish, you're mama won't know ya'cause I'm a rip you limb from limbYou tombstone read he had no winSo rip, rest in peace, rip 'emD.i.d., dead indeed, did 'emA h-i-t, hitman, so whatcha hit 'em witA rhyme silencer, I hit 'em wit a death blowChorusIf mama said knock me out, come do itYou can't win and that (record scratch) knew itI'm a send you home in a body bagWit the mic in your throat and a jock for a gagYou're out of here, over, finished, all inAnd marly marl can't save you from fallin'cause as soon as you came back what did you doTo the break of dawn, another dumb moveYou can't go hard, you're just so-so toddI'm that type of guy, oh my godIt's gets no rougher comes no weakerMarly hooked the beats so now you need aWriter to bring you back from hellBecause I'm a rock up lLow life loser, life like lunaLafidasical, lispless lunaTic liver lifeless, living likenessLusting longing lyrics like thisLittle league, lard larsonist liarLabel ledger, left the leper liarBull, lull, lateral learningLaps language latent lurkingLanguage, language, local logoLight laboring, limited localNow ll's a laughing stock'cause I bit that ass to the last stopI watched you fall like hitler fellAnd now you're down to a broken lYou're records ain't hot and you're shows don't sellYo, tell 'em how you fell l, hard as hellYou came back and you thought you had meBut think about it, whos' your daddyKill 'em... big daddy, I don't want none...I did 'em wit a death blowTo the break of dawnTo the, to the, to the, get him out of here(kool moe dee talks)
Writer(s): Fred Wesley, Joe Mims, James Brown
Copyright: Dynatone Publishing Company
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