Masters Of Illusion – Urban Legends lyrics

No happy campers, rappers sit in dirty-ass Pampers
It's an assassination, public lies, now cover your eyes
My style gory Michael Edward urban Scissorhand cut
My Orenthal scamper, Hertz hurdles, slicin' his apple
I'm on some tight lyrics like Bill Clinton get high and snicker
I run the United States, front nut guaranteed to get some focus from my folks
in the cut an' they feel a partner
Runnin' from home plate, goin' upstairs like I'm Galarraga
I'm not that sucker duck batterer that you can bean with pitches
Spit in your mask like Romanowski did yo' face in public
Smack kids with fish wrap, I'm two rotations on the pitchback
Exploit the frontline, yo secondary, throw salutes at
Too many rappers havin' slumber parties smokin' weed
I'm throwin' stones and rappers pillow fight with all they might
Pimp slap your whole Earth, her fat Aunt Jemimah ass works
Rappers get touched, molested, used up, and left neglected
And sell they Duke shoes for a tie in Cuban, Colombian
paraphernalia, my styles cradle up your bald ass
Straight up I'll carry ya, and drop her off as human waste
Go kiss your broad, and tell me how my crooked stick taste

[Chorus: x2]
Urban legend raps, with city slickin' facts
(Collars with feather stencil brims to the max)
Urban legend stories, we gloatin', glory glory
(Men with styluses kid, act like you never saw me)

Yo I'm very black, I move with skill on yo' wack ass
Kangols and bell bottoms, dressed like Grandmaster Flash
Watch the kid get hurt my penis on his girl's anus
Ask me for autographs, the thongs are tight, gimme the math
Check out the splits, saw your moms naked in Black Tail
Hustler, Penthouse, they put your wife in Barely Legal
Openin' legs with a pink shore and spreadin' eagle
Whatchu want boy, on RapPages call me master
Stop actin pro, cause a lot of y'all, sound homo
Panties on patios, your aunt call me daddy yo
MC's get mad, see me naked at they grandma's house
She's 59, pumps off, Nicole is lookin' fine
Got Tina Turner cookin' pancakes up on the burner
What's up son, gettin' jealous, feelin' your mom's buns
Go play your PlayStation, go study aviation
I need some privacy, drawers off, new sensation
Three eight depth with porno movies tryin' to show me booty
I call Motion while your sister rubs in Jergens lotion
69 got the rubber on, eatin' popcorn
Most rappers out with cold hands, eat my nuts warm

[Chorus]