Smut Peddlers — That Smut song lyrics and translation
The page contains the lyrics and English translation of the song "That Smut" by Smut Peddlers.
Lyrics
Du willst dich am Mic entfalten,
doch ich schreibe Feuersalven
Richtung Bitches, die für ein paar Titel Fame auch Penis halten
Wenn ich Crews zerstückel gibt es kein. aufhalten,
Denn ich rhyme und glotz von oben auf euch cripples wie ein Falke,
Geh ans Mikro, walze Rapper nieder
und behalte mir das Recht vor zu behaupten, du bist pur Dreck wie Algen
da ich nur rapp, um meiner Stimmung freien Lauf zu lassen
und nicht wirklich auszurasten, muss auch jede Zeile passen
Ihr wollt statt zu hassen jetzt mit Lyrics Fuss fassen
Doch ich töte stumpfe Asseln und zerschlage Crews wie Tassen
Du bist fake, doch ich verforme deinen Rhyme wie Plaste,
wenn ich Texte schreibe, schwillen Schwule Rapper an und platzen
Eure Flows geraten aus der Achse, kack auf deinen Part
und füll den Beat am besten nur mit irgendwelchen Patzen
Dich erwachsen. zu benehmen,
brauchst du keine Frau und Glatze oder jenen armen Hass,
sondern Rhymes auf Dynamite
That smut!
(Wenn ich rhyme und Crews in Pfützen ertränk)
That smut!
(Wenn wir reden und ich nur an Texte denk)
That smut!
(Wenn mein Chorus dein Album in Stücke sprengt)
That smut!
(Wenn dein Drummer sich nach dem Auftritt erhängt)
That smut!
(Wenn ich rhyme und Crews in Pfützen ertränk)
That smut!
(Wenn wir reden und ich nur an Texte denk)
That smut!
(Wenn mein Chorus dein Album in Stücke sprengt)
That smut!
(Wenn dein Drummer sich nach dem Auftritt erhängt)
That smut!
Yo yo, I’m unrippable like Knicks tickets
And if your girl’s a little looser you bet E’s dick did it
I’ll lace your crew better than Paragon can
Have you shook worse than the Marathon Man
Makin MC’s use our fetus to clone us Comin out lookin like Arvydas Sabonis
My team’s in the bonus, you foul too much
Playin on the wall with the scowls and such
Man the Owl’s a dutch, I done all varities
Cage, Mi, and E’s — anti-society
Fingers blisterin, still stickerin
Under black moonlight, with butane flickerin
I’m with my girl but yeah I’m lookin at yours
Done 'em all, debutantes to crack whores
Bad breath over stink like shits is
Y’all belong up in the pink light districts
Ducks came through, we laid 'em out
While you fucks dissect spit from Cage’s mouth
When I run a vagrant route, you spacin out
With no family to react when your brains is out
And when I click this out you know the drill (SCATTER!)
This mic a shiv; hip-hop is Nancy after I stab her
On stage, you wanna go on after?
Show you the Art of War and then finish the crowd with the 1st chapter
Come and walk through this little doorway
Enter the mind of Cage and a horse will shit you out on Broadway
The flies won’t eat it then feed it to the Wallace
Peddle Smut like anabolic beer meth hydrolix
Alex frolics; hangin upside down
Ordained til my rhyme ninja bleeds through my face of war paint
So if you see me with a little pop jingle
Shoot me in the back of the head and feed me to my starvin breddern
Lyrics translation
You want to unfold on Mic,
but I write fire volleys
Direction Bitches that hold for a few titles Fame also Penis
When I dismember Crews there is no. reside,
For I rhyme and stare from above at you cripples like a hawk,
Get on the mic, roll Rapper down
and reserve me the right to claim you are pure dirt like algae
since I just rapp to let my mood run wild
and not really freaking out, every line must fit
You want to gain a foothold with Lyrics instead of hating
But I kill blunt asses and smash Crews like cups
You are fake, but I deform your Rhyme like plastic,
when I write lyrics, gay rappers swell and burst
Your Flows get out of the axis, poop on your Part
and fill the Beat best only with any Patzen
You grow up. behave,
don't you need a wife and bald head or that poor hate,
but Rhymes on Dynamite
That smut!
(When I drown rhyme and Crews in puddles)
That smut!
(When we talk and I only think of texts)
That smut!
(When my Chorus blows your Album to pieces)
That smut!
(If your Drummer hangs himself after the gig)
That smut!
(When I drown rhyme and Crews in puddles)
That smut!
(When we talk and I only think of texts)
That smut!
(When my Chorus blows your Album to pieces)
That smut!
(If your Drummer hangs himself after the gig)
That smut!
Yo yo, I'm unrippable like Knicks tickets
And if your girl's a little looser you bet e's dick did it
I'll lace your crew better than Paragon can
Have you shook worse than the Marathon Man
Makin MC's use our fetus to clone us Comin out lookin like Arvydas Sabonis
My team's in the bonus, you foul too much
Playin on the wall with the scowls and such
Man the Owl's a dutch, I done all varities
Cage, Mi, and e's-anti-society
Fingers blisterin, still stickerin
Under black moonlight, with butane flickerin
I’m with my girl but yeah I’m lookin at yours
Done 'em all, debutantes to crack whores
Bad breath over stink like shits is
Y’all belong up in the pink light districts
Ducks came through, we laid 'em out
While you fucks dissect spit from Cage’s mouth
When I run a vagrant route, you spacin out
With no family to react when your brains is out
And when I click this out you know the drill (SCATTER!)
This mic a shiv; hip-hop is Nancy after I stab her
On stage, you wanna go on after?
Show you the Art of War and then finish the crowd with the 1st chapter
Come and walk through this little doorway
Enter the mind of Cage and a horse will shit you out on Broadway
The flies won’t eat it then feed it to the Wallace
Peddle Smut like anabolic beer meth hydrolix
Alex frolics; hangin upside down
Ordained til my rhyme ninja bleeds through my face of war paint
So if you see me with a little pop jingle
Shoot me in the back of the head and feed me to my starvin breddern