Lyrics Language: English Song writer/composer(s): K Jones, Kendrick Davis, F Scruggs, C Parker, Chris Martin, T Taylor
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Jeru The DamajaCome Clean Lyrics:
[Verse One:]
You wanna front, what?
Jump up and get bucked
If you're feeling lucky duck
Then press your luck
I snatch fake gangsta MC's and make em faggot flambe
Your nine spray, my mind spray
Malignant mist that'll leave hard to funk
The results, your remains stuffed in a car trunk
You couldn't come to the jungles of the East poppin that yang
You won't survive get live catchin wreck is our thing
I don't gang bang or shoot out bang bang
The relentless lyrics the only dope I slang
I'm a true master you can check my credentials
Cuz I choose to use my infinite potentials
Got a freaky, freaky, freaky-freaky flow
Control the mic like fidel castro locked cuba
So deep that you can scuba dive / my jive
Origin is unknown like the Jubas
I've accumulated honies all across the map
Cuz I'd rather bust a nut then bust a cap in
Ya back in fact my rap snaps ya sacrofilliac
I'm the mack so I don't need to tote a Mac
My attack is purely mental and it's nature's not hate
It's meant to wake ya up out of ya brainwashed state
Stagnate nonsense but if you persist
You'll get ya snotbox bust you press up on this
I flip hoes dip none of the real niggas slip
You don't know enough math to count the mics that I ripped
Keep the Dirty Rotten Scoundrel as his verbal weapons spit
[Verse Two:]
Real rough and rugged, shine like a gold nugget
Every time I pick up the microphone I drug it
I'm rugged on chumps with the gangsta babble
Leave your nines at home and bring your skills to the battle
You're rattlin' on and on and ain't sayin nothing
That's why you got snuffed when you
bump heads with Dirty Rotten
Have you forgotten, I'll tap you [jaw]
I also kick like kung fu flicks by run run shaw
Made fools bleed every time I g'd
Cuz I've perfected my drunken style like sam seed
Pseudo psychos I play like Michael
Jackson when I'm bustin ass and breakin backs
Inhale the putrified aroma
Breathe too deep and you'll wind up coma-
tose the king I'm hard like a fifth of vodka
And bring your clique cuz I'm a hard rock knocka
I gotcha, out on a limb, about to push you off the plank
Let you draw your craw but you burner shot blanks
When the East is in the house you should come equipped
[Verse Three:]
Fly like a jet sting like a hornet
Knuckleheads get live and set it off if you want it
Dirty rotten scoundrels is crushin fools no joke
My style is more fatal than second hand smoke
Don't provoke the wrath of this rhyme inventor
Cuz I blow up spots like the world trade center
Come with the super trooper on his assault mission
The tech's technique cuz he's a technician
Wishin he'll go away won't help the weapons stop
The skills are shot cuz any idiot can let off a glock
Hard rock smellin the clutch of this suntoucha
You claim you got beef on the streets so whatcha
Gonna do when real niggaz roll up on you
And you don't got your crew
Pull your glock but you don't got the heart
You was webbed straight from the start
Bought a tool and didn't learn how to use it
Got lost in Brooklyn so you had to lose it
Just for frontin you got that ass whipped
The lyrics on the most recent version are sanctioned by the composer, or owner of the rights to the lyrics, however, there may be lyrics that are more complete on the prior version(s) that have been submitted by a contributor to mp3lyrics.org
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