Issue No 174 Elmer Fud More Cowbell Lyrics

(Verse)
Spit harder B Rosary B, stigmata
If Count Medulla Oblongata a shooter
Tell the world I'm a hella thug
Double barrel apparel, similar to Elmer Fud
Duck season and big rug squeezin'
I'll even say shoot, hoof for no reason
Keep the pawns of the predicate
Tell 'em, tell 'em go home with the medal
Go to yo home, leave hommie in hold of yo chrome
Got 4-4-4's like the roachers belong
Gunshots, I'm breakin' it thunder
I mean, go swing on the king of Samunda
I kill the covert of cubscout
Rub me the wrong way, bitch, niggas get guaped out
I used to be a B-Boy, bitch
Now I spit Jim Scarr Killoyd shit

(Verse)
Swall up the shots, I knock 'em down
When I formulate a plot, yo block is blocka-loud
Beats get ran thru like sheets of bamboo
Now they all learn to savor the burbon of Grand Crew
Stake thru the heart, hallucinate in the dark
I create another shadow up in sculpture park
Dispose the rock and simulate a culture shock
That make yo spine disalign and make yo pulse stop
Check it! Let the record reflect my intellect
That ignorant disposition that neva accept death
Got a pro'lem, you can meet us on the moon
Have it stopped kickin' since our feet was in the womb
I proceed to find freedom in the tombs
While yo mind's still locked keepin' weed inside balloons
My steam impit steam on that piff
You ain't gotta say shit, just think it an asset

()
Yeah, now betta handle with caution
Anyone of my niggaz is causin' misfortune
Fuck the flowers, help ya spit on the coffin
The fowlest brand, baby come and swallow these offerings
Flow ill-tank like zip locks and body bags
Niggas is pussies and softer than vagina pads
Play it hype like you're sniffin' some royal yay
What it means is I'll be beatin' it's ass the whole day
You call it beef but I call it the entree
Boy I serve it up cheap like I bought it from ConWay
F to the Izzle, bitch, no deal
Punch introduction, my function is so ill
Rap trinity is simply too ill
The epidemy of lyrically shittin' on yo grill