The Tongue - The Blues lyrics

rate me

Hey man are you The Tongue?

Yeah... G'day mate, how you going?

Yeah, sick man, sick

Yeah...

Let's battle ey

Ah mate I'm just... I'm just chilling tonight, I'm just having a beer and

Hey Terry check it out! It's The Tongue

Says he's gonna battle

Nah mate, it's alright, I'm not gonna battle just having a beer...

Oh c'mon man what's wrong with you

Nothing's wrong with me I just...

What you're all talk man, step up!

Mate, I'm just having a beer alright

Come on pin dick! Let's do it - you and me

What did you call me?

You fucking heard

Alright

Hey yo, When I step to battle, shit gets biblical

Fire and brimstone, hit home with my lyrical assault

I inflict wounds then rub in salt, spray lemon juice, point and say it's

All your fault

And it is if you thought that I wouldn't retort

Or respond, cause you're wrong, see my mind is a bomb

That explodes whenever it's owner gets in the zone

And you just lit the fuse so now I'm ready to blow

Going postal, my blitzkreig is coast to coast fool

I'll eat you for breakfast, after I toast you

In front of your friends, test once son never again

Get defensive cause I'm out to offend

Mad with raps, causing every fan to clap

A white boy who beats rappers til his hands are black

And if you answer back, we can clash in round two

Lord forgive them for they know not what they do!

Everybody in the world's got something to say, but if you wanna come test me

I'll have you singing the blues

I got you singing the blues

Everybody in the world's got something to prove, but if you wanna bring beef

My way

I'll have you singing the blues

I got you singing the blues

(and everytime we battle is)

A good day for me, a bad day for you

A good day to you sir, you've just been dismissed

And dissed, by a man who's got the gift

Of gab

But it ain't Gift Of Gab

Na, it's Tongue

Mr. "OK man you've won! "

Mr. I won't stop til I'm done

Slamming, ramming home the point

That when it comes to this battle shit you know I own the joint

Who's deadly on the mic with a capital D?

That's me, you phoney with a capital P

You phone me to apologise after you lose

I accept cause, fuck it, I got nothing to lose

But I do nothing but win, once the battle begins

I'm, as steady as a rock, you're a sock in the wind

With a bunch of soggy lines that you wrote with a friend

Now you praying for this moment to end... You fucking wally!

I turn rappers to blues singers

They so soft like fairy floss, they need new knickers

New triggers for their flare guns, call for help

I snigger as I send all these devils to hell

I'm quicker on the draw like an art-eest

Fakes get caught out in the end like they are priests

Aren't we, satisfied that I'm fly yet?

How many of you sour grapes should I digest?

I just speak from my heart like I had lips in my chest

You shit talk with piss on your breath

And I don't take no crap, put your lighters up yo,

Cause this ain't no match, you ain't got no fire

And you don't bring any heat, Tongue your worst nightmare

And I ain't lost no sleep

So you could call me psychic but I saw this coming

Now listen to the sound of the 5-string strumming...

I got you singing the blues... I got you singing the blues...