Search 4 Bobby Fisher Lyrics - Dilated Peoples

* hard to find white label, but 2:58 long on napster 

[intro: rakaa iriscience] 

Yo.. it's like this man 

Every once in a while when motherfuckers pop off at the lip 

Somebody get brought into this shit 

That don't have nuttin to do with this shit right? 

But none the less 

You wanna start lettin off buckshots, cats gotta retaliate 

Y'all callin out ev? well you got him 

[evidence] 

Yo, a blonde fag took my kindness for a weakness 

But instead of comin hard threw a weak diss 

Twelve of his friends at first I was speechless 

Is it cause you lack pussy or lack uniqueness? 

It's always your type, itchy and quick to bust off 

Ruin the party, "soliloquy of chaos" 

In this verse, jumpin jacks a little warm up 

There'll be no bullshit, there'll be no hit chorus 

Diss my crew? yo, you won't go far 

The truth is I'm about as much from detroit as you are 

I'm rackin up points, shit cat I'm scorin 

You ain't a true tiger, liar, you from warren 

A trailer trash town where daddy stuck it to ya 

That's why you hate your mother cause she never tried to stop it 

Twenty years later you're still out of luck 

I met this chick you took home on tour, but couldn't get it up 

Alert! alert! you internet geeks 

Eminem is just like you, weak between the sheets 

Dr. evil, tryin to steal my mojo 

I'll fuck you up, plus look better in photos 

I know what it is, you envy what you hate 

I'm what you used to be, you was me in ninety-eight 

Hungry for props, and ready to rock 

Except your stage show is so weak you always just ready to rot 

Fuck your pace walkin forth at best 

(at) that rate on tour dates, hope you never run out of breath 

It's such a shame your uncle ronnie's not listed 

I'm a geek? you jock fred from limp bizkit 

Production time; I heard you're makin beats 

But don't program the drums, don't program the keys 

Don't program the bass, producer? liar! 

Doin that shit's like hirin a ghostwriter 

You might as well you little fake chino xl 

You're target practice - strictly blast these empty shells 

{*crowd roar*} it's an upset, you lose the title! 

But first lose the haircut, you're bitin george michael 

Next topic, time to stick the knife in 

Slaughter your {daughter}, ah fuck it throw your wife in 

I'ma do 'em, do 'em 'til nothin left 

The way I'm murderin you now they probably avenge your death 

You blind bitch, I'm about to rub it in 

Go sell millions of records, you still don't own your publishin 

You ain't hip-hop, you pop; extra popular to little girls, 

Kids, and the trenchcoat mafia 

So here it comes, a blast from my crew 

You bout to get chopped by a man named babu 

The funniest part? let me say this 'fore I'm through 

I haven't even begun to start, I saved the best for part two 

{*babu cuts and scratches these samples*} 

"faggot, no comp rapper on a quest" -> ll cool j 

"hi!" -> eminem, "bitch shut the fuck up!" -> eazy-e 

"if you take offense fuck it, got to be that way" -> krs-one 

"i thought I oughta tell you, better yet warn" -> mc lyte 

"suckers get eliminated fuckin with dilated" -> cypress hill 

"nevertheless, I'll say it again" -> slick rick(? ) 

"bitch!" -> n.w.a. 

"soundclash with us, you flirt with disaster" -> dilated 

"trick or treat..."