The Reavers - Dusted (Dirty) lyrics

[Intro: Karniege] Do it ‘til you get it right, boy. Let me tilt the brim again. Listen [Verse 1: Karniege] When the light goes out, it be dark inside Cold in the room, making it hard to write Turn the heat up, trying to thaw my thumb (What else?) Index, middle, ring, and pinky Then write something that'll slaughter the drummer boys Spill flows out that be sort of kinky It's 6 AM. Pardon my morning thinking Silver dollar nipples break through breasteses Autographed and tagged on a** and necklaces No question, kid. This mood is kind of rude Dead a gutter cat, leave him spooked in Chinese food Want to place a order? (Don't even try me, dude) Been doing it since the ending of ‘92 Beginning in '93 with a grimy scene Back then, find me teenage with a street name. Next Cyphering and fighting with identity crisis Got a weird, little schizo that'll hear tiptoes Creeping in the shadow, speaking all wacko A group of your schoolmates laughing like jackal But son sweeping brooms, the king, the castle Plus his Wonder Woman, hah, swing her La**os [Hook: Karniege] You, you must Be dusted. Putting out wack only get you On crutches, beaten out with bats, bottles And buckets. Tell me, son, ain't that Some dumb sh**? You, you must Be dusted. Saying that's hot? Not. It's Disgusting. You need to hogtied Or muffled. On the streets where nobody Loves you. It's pathetic [Verse 2: Karniege] You feel me now? Wet mics with a milky style Anthrax flow that'll straight k** a crowd Been about, damaging cliques with language I spit Snapping her vertebrae, cracking her ribs Crushing her skull with no muscle involved With mind power, shower and devour them all Since when you became a thug, black? Fabricating hired hands, hugs, rats, and clutch gats The bullets stay in ‘em, pop off like hubcaps In your ears, there's voices telling you to plug that Sounds like a good idea. Why would I care What I spit out of mouth and put in your ear? As long as I got j**els that be flooding my wrist up Money money galore and plenty of b**hes Listen here, dude. I'm mad at what you spit, splatter dogs Get a catalog big as dinosaur footprint [Interlude 1: Karniege] That's how I'll be squishing you rappers [Hook: Karniege] You, you must Be dusted. Putting out wack only get you On crutches, beaten out with bats, bottles And buckets. Tell me, son, ain't that Some dumb sh**? You, you must Be dusted. Saying that's hot? Not. It's Disgusting. You need to hogtied Or muffled. On the streets where nobody Loves you. It's pathetic