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Тексты песен на английском, аккорды, табулатуры, гитара, Texts of songs, the song text, chords, notes » D » Dr. Dooom
Call the Cops - текст песни



Call the Cops


lyrics and music by Kool Keith, a.k.a. Dr. Dooom

Additional lyrics by Jackie Jasper



Jackie, you keep them rollers in ya hair with that plastic all on ya head, huh

Man, Hey, Keith, who did ya gerry curls, man, look good

I seen ya’ll this mornin on �Cops,’ man, they had ya’ll pictures

and all ya profiles and everything, ya’ll should stay low.

Gene called.

He need five dollas.



(Dr. Dooom)

Ultimate focus behind ya neck can’t reflex with text ( тексты песен на ficd.ru ) on your lyrical index

Stop the masses rotate the fastest

Afro gerry curl world, get ignited re-invited on your main sources like the

Enforcers

Sub-machines spray your Liberace pianos

Free-style ambulances ring out your new dances

While ya’ll can’t rap we took your ampex, we have protective custody

Got your face disgustin’ me

Wit’ animal-like instincts I left a dead gorilla in the skatin’ rink

Penetrated your Gap jeans with Black & Decker machines

Alternate your Scullies, catch dead rats in Saran Wrap

Put used diapers on your windshield wipers

Make you eat your own feces, ?sell yourleardrumbelices?

Pull out your colon leave your glands swollen

Uncircumcised between your mom’s thighs

That’s right, wit a face like Michael Myers

I clip the ears off your body guards with some bloody pliers

Bound to eat a German Shepard in the Mohave Desert

While ya’ll talk gangsta I push body carts in shopping carts

Leave wigs on streets on Melrose so coroners can smell those

Arms for three days, with three legs in the back seat ya’ll get the back heat?

With the police department scared to look at my apartment

Three weeks ago I dumped a bag of legs with beer kegs

Went to Ralph’s and bought a six pack and some eggs

Seen my face in the paper wit a beard, went home and shaved

Took out ya bodies in the pickup truck back to the grave

Drinkin’ Yoo-Hoos and doughnuts, ya’ll punks think I’m so nuts

Walkin’ in hospital roooms like the black Dr. Dooom

Push you in the wheelchair out the window down the steps like Iancide(sic.)

You run and hide

Handicap wit no maps I’m after you throw gas at you.

(The projects called the cops)





The F.B.I. got our fingerprints

Heavy big weights, we move in alternate states

(The projects called the cops.)

(Muthafucka')





(Jackie Jasper)

Jackie Jasper wit illegal drugs, sell for the thugs:

A bag of penises and twenty butt plugs, Persian rugs

Wit dead bodies on it, call Colombo, who dunnit, solve it

And I’ll revolve it

And hold it, to the war to the hogs to the dogs?

A vagina with bugs, rubs, cubs, getting fellatio

Ratio fa sho’. Positive why I die I live comatose tomato juice and

Cherry Ho’s and toast

Santa Barbara at the Barbie coast most?

Chicks licks black holes French expose

Wastin’ my children on her clothes that went up her nose, suppose?

I penetrated ya neck wit a Bic pen

Wit a belt around my waist like Bookmen?

Don’t ask my neighbors, bodies dead, sixty-nine flavors, behaviors

Smokin’ glass wit coleslaw hangin’ out ya ass

Take a blast, I’m travelin’ fast, pass a nymphomaniac

Diggin’ up corpse I’m a necrophiliac getting my chick back

In an up-smack

Had that head bobbin,’ joggin,’ cyclin,’ recyclin.’

Connivin,’ arrivin,’ hearse drivin’ it’s even.

Seven heads, ten horns, believing. Evil demon

As Stella Steven retreatin’ you’re beatin’

Eatin’ dead puss. Sardine can smell from here to hell.

A gladiator wit tights under disco lights.

Blowin’ a harmonica, yo, in Santa Monica in a Honda

Name dazzle night fall the press cross dressed your name Rhonda?

Call Macero? Call Dan-O, call Cello?

Five-O rollin’ in a Pinto from Ohio, Toledo, down to San Pedro

Believe me, ho, I sold Curtis the blow.



The F.B.I. got our fingerprints

Heavy big weights, we move to alternate states

(The projects called the cops)



(Book em’)



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