Kurupt

Kurupt - No Feelings lyrics

rate me

Nigga I ain't got no feelings

What the fuck you think this is?

I got no reason to live

So make your mind up

What you wanna do?

I make your family be missing you

Nigga I ain't got no feelings

What the fuck you think this is?

I got no reason to live

So make your mind up

What you wanna do?

I make your family be missing you

Dustin' you off like dirty finger prints on evidence

Battlin' me ya dead like presidents

I'm Fresh like Prince, Jazzy like Jeff

The man just like Meth,

Crazy like Left plus jams is like Def

Wid a pen I'm king like Kurupt,

When I throw a style you betta duck

If you don't yo ass is outta luck

Don't fuck, wid the masta,

If I have to, the I'll blast ya

Then go to church to see my pastor

Why ya have to be like this

Me and the mic's tight like

Gladys Knight and the Pips

This year my son turned six,

Yo style's wack and you need to get that shit fixed

Representin' Jersey my raps hittin' harder than bricks

I'm iller, realer,

Than ya local drug dealer

Come to my villa,

Meet the nine milla,

Lettin' off,

Where I stop you gettin' off,

Make you feel it juts like Latifah's kiss in Set It Off

You want war come on,

Put on the boxing gloves

People call me an artist in the canvas

Cause I draw blood,

That's what's up,

Wid the shit I manouver

Hit the losers wid a Luger

Than lay up in Aruba

I'm gon' be rappin' till you motherfuckas get sick ah me on the mic,

I'm sicker than ten niggas wid HIV,

Tracy, had the cico, the freako

Holdin' heat somewhere on Wall Sreet wid Sloppy Joe

You hear me though?

My name is Stephen

I eat MCs for no apparent reason

It in you if you skeezin' I'm pleasin'

Those who dare,

I advise you not to stare

You be assed out like a flat tyre widout a spare

I declare war before I had to even the score

You got me hot like sand on the shore,

I'm runnin' the floor, like a ballerina,

I go back like Flava Flav in cold Medina

I get honies to make you say "You seen her?"

I'm pregnant, but only in my mind

Hopin' my baby rhyme grows up to be a triple platinum album

I fell on, using the steel to do crimes

Smoked so many niggas they put up no smoking signs

Charismatic asthmatic, ballin' like Madden,

Cream, automatic attractive like a magnet

Speedin' like car racin',

Cream like carnation,

Burned out my Playstation while cats be scar facin',

Hey old lady, sorry's all I can say

By bills got me lookin' at pocket books, in a different way,

Fox got the bubbled eye Benz-o

I'm in the back of Kurupt flex truck playin' 64 Nintendo

Get peeled, skills in the fields

Raw dog raw deals,

Niggas either ill, fake or real

Penetrates I only heard ah tens and thirty eights

Ride as the niggas turnin' states and flippin' crates

Get lift like weights,

Bust and radiate spreadin' infections

Murderous mafia connections

I wanna feel touched like feelings

Start drillin' start ampin' out,

Hittin' wid autos campin' out,

Wid autos innovative calculative creative

Touched nigga, hectic, wid a couple seconds

A bust nigga, from a distance I can peep a fuck up

You on the Ave wid nuthin' but cash to get stuck up

Man them diamonds y'all got is nice, hot

Never seen cowards wid so much ice

I got blocks to get all that's got behind the scenes

Sellin' glocks, tech nines, sixteens and magazines

Zines, zines, zines.......

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