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Song:Lah Lah Lah
Album:Lord Of The MetaphorGenres:Other
Year: Length:287 sec

Lyricist: Keith Murray

Lyrics:

[Hook]
La la la la la, la la la la
I hear you haters talking, but I'm just walking, singing
Doing my thing, shining like bling
I'm like
Only black cats in the airport, but we strutting like
And we fronting like

[Verse 1]
I snatch the spotlight outfit like DJ Lance
Yo, L.O.D., Def Squad with the party in a trance
Keith Murray, New Yitty, bad boy, getting bitty
Very peace fifty six rush Tewksbury
Sitting very legendary, omnipotent
Spit with such gravity, mister pop clarity
You just said golf balls, niggas best to chiz-ill
Get high, say anything to try to apiz-eal
Cause we all ghetto boys -- you know, Bushwick Biz-ills
And we robbing motherfuckers for they gangster griz-ills
There's a you four-fender had a weakened agenda
Cold as the backstreets of New York in December
Rocking out there with silent splendor
Like a good ass-whipping, my flow you'll always remember
So thanks, give me a light, you hermaphrodites
So I could ignite the blunt and take flight
Singing

[Hook]

[Verse 2]
Ay yo, these dirt-poor rappers think they be the man
I don't even say nothing, I just wave my hand
And I hold shit down prime time, no Stephanapolous
With hotness? By George, I think you've got it
My antibioticly toxic topics
Sweat 'em out weave-y, got Drake-y toxins
The era of the fugazi emcees is dying
Cause so many rappers in they rhymes be lying
About ice, selling drugs, busting guns, whipping coupes
I see the hype got you gassed like pffft pffft -- oops
I keep chickenheads all in hot pursuit
Old Jamaican ladies say, 'Oh, he looks so cute!'
I dance with the devil while doing the Dougie
He gonna need No-Doz and coffee to keep up with Keith
And y'all don't want none of this splendiferous
Slitheressness, gibberishness, deviousness
So Jesus, ain't no rapper fucking with Keith
I'll burn and break 'em down like Hachise and put 'em in my

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
And I'm out mean-mugging like Perellis be hugging
You ain't seen thugging, L.O.D. bean-bugging
There's no incidental of influential
Over instrumental, flow quintessential
You too paradoxical, anti-logical
Kid, I'll spontaneous combust you
Not only will I throw you under the bus, soldier
But I'll back up and run your stank ass over
Cause you exaggerated, falsificated
Testimonials will not be tolerated
My hip-hop melodies cruise like Penelope
And stay with you forever, like violent felonies
Metaphor entrepreneur, more raw like 'Kick in the Door'
Got the D's wondering what the dog saw
So whores, drop your drawers when we on tours
I come once a year like Santa Claus
Singing

[Hook]




 

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