The Message Lyrics by Thirstin Howl III

  • Album Release Date: 2011
  • Features : {“Unique London”}

[Thirstin Howl III]
The rhymes you about to hear, nevertheless of my own
This is for all you young MC’s, oh my how you’ve grown
You got bigger, better, stronger and much faster
I remember you were small or slow
With a speech impediment and had asthma
You a comedian – when you started doin stand-up?
And where you come up with all these fuckin stupid answers?
Your rhymes would be cute
If you wrote em on a pad that was pink
When MC’s think, they’re above the rim
I make them realize they really below the sink
Before we battle, check it out, I got these rules
You can’t say: nine, spine, time — all that shit is pre-school!
You could talk of shootings, but tell me so I would be clear
But don’t brag about coke deliveries that will never be here!
Don’t mention your chickenhead and all her clothes by Versace
When she needs some orthopedic shoes – she’s pigeontoed and knock-kneed!
Save me the part about, Timb’s and bandanas
Frontin in front of cameras, braggin about what your man does
I heard enough: Glocks, cocks last year
That took niggas to the cashier
But that ain’t happenin for your ass here!
I’m amazed in your sudden interest for espanol
But see, I won’t, rhyme, out the house, unless I’m told
Don’t speak of ice unless it’s from the freezer
Your Rolex and Lexus in Texas, I don’t wanna hear that either
How much cash you got is really none of my concern
As long as all of this is established, let me hear you, it’s your turn

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