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[Slug:] The following program has been brought to you by Rhymesayers Entertainment The following program contains explicit lyrics And we the producers stay defiantly behind the views expressed in the following program. All right, all you players and player haters, once again it's time for the "Sep Sev" game show Recorded live right here in lovely snowy Minnesota This is the game where we make the average player a star. Now, if you'll join me, let's give it up for the host of the "Sep Sev" game show That's right, here he is, Mr. Sep Sev... YO, YO, YO, YO, YO, YO, fuck the money, everyone on the floor drop I want all the food in the bag, and I ain't tryin' to hear that soar talk Stole the dinner and freaked it to the freeway Flipped the screenplay, and made every love scene a three-way Sound track recorded here in Minnesnowda Tastes like ambrosia Disinfects pen holders Yo, let's hold our breath and show your chest, if you're proud of it And wake me back to safety if you see me falling out of it Under a full moon, the color of mind is a mucous See your in the distance, the images riveting Given the way the clouds moved, it fucked with the lighting Grabbed me by the thoughts and pulled me tight like a kite string All right, let's hear it for contestant number one What's your name sir? Letras de cancionesYo, MC famous, the killer Okay Mr. Anus Driller, you want to play the next round for a new Lexus with matching socks? Or air on the horny Miami based video Or do you just want to take the phony looking fifty dollar bills and run with money? Yo, I want the sex man, just give chicks man, just, just let me touch 'em man! [Slug:] Now what If I spent, my whole day [? ], on getting bent, and now I can't afford my rent Do I grab a crowbar to your back door (Back door) Or hit up Super America for the cash drawer? (Fast forward) I should be honest, cause even my outer conscience, Knows the odds of blowing up are equal to people waking up from sleeping, Keeping me from retrieving kingdoms and bed time stories, Used to bore me with, positioned in the orbit of my imagination Small portion, even that much, flustered by the drug fell in lust with the rush Hush, maybe somewhere in it I became a cynic, But your sexy grin gets less attractive by the minute The planets in my head now rotate around the mind The substance, the bug shit, all in my circumference And I function Like I don't give a fuck if you grasp it Resent the bitch that don't and cast it under the masses; I asked, "Is that right? " I answered, "Does it matter? " I was glancing at how you fancy the passion, bastard How fast you scale the ladder to jump I'd rather just flunk than gather your junk (Yo dog, you should blast that punk) Alright, this next round our contestant is gonna have to slam A whole bottle of expensive firewater, chase it with a forty of malt liquor Smoke a blunt, load a gun and sell records to 14 year olds all over the country And the first one of you genocidal fashion fantasy fucks to go platinum wins Wins what!? Mr. Announcer, tell them what they'll win! Well, they'll win respect, lot's and lot's of props! [Slug:] Pissed on the Asti Spumonte, sippin' kamekazi Shoulda called mommy when you saw me pull up in [? ] The rest of you're life's a flashback when I jump out that hatchback Here's your tape, give me my cash back I'm on tracks, and that's that, in fact that's all you need Either take some kind of lead, or fall to your knees and bleed How's your scene? And how's that rental running? And how's the weed selling? And how's the demo coming? Me and my participants, be the reason why you and you crew bit your lips Stick this in your mouth to cleanse it The fuckin' prop is too expensive Make's me want to end it (Repent kid) My advice is from here on out you purchase yellow boxers That way when your bitch does your laundry, she won't tell her moms about the stains created When I skated across that flat service you refer to as lyrical endowment That content, that conscience, run down to that [? ] From Letras Mania