Kiss The Bicep Hallelujah by Verbal McMahon Lyrics
It's the chinky eyed kid, assume the math is clever
Beat the system with some wisdom from the past endeavors
Put the passion on a beat & make it last forever
Shit I'm prolly the illest, sickest bastard ever
There I go again, off the top rope again
The finisher, the minster bless your soul again
The water fire in this ocean that I'm floatin in
They call me sire in this throne room I'm posted in
I'm closing in on the truth, another dose again
My rhymes rugged but the flows are made of porcelain
So save your childish looks, I'm with the wildest crooks
I'm like a howlin wolf listening to Howlin' Wolf
Built the mental in a temple reading Shaolin books
Monk shit, punk shit, pure funk shit
Pull up to The Golden Globes in my golden robes
Foldin foes, anyone who knows em knows
Rollin groves of the holy juana
Smoky bomber got me hesitant to give hugs, sorry mama
Love from a distance still love
The Lower real bugged, yeah we drink Henny, spill blood
Me & Shoota Steve chief when we shoot the breeze
When we shoot hoops, I'm Kobe with the shooting sleeve
True indeed, you ain't hot, you like 2 degrees
Word to me, I let your shorty blow me & she blew her knees
Dog your life need a life vest
You lookin type stressed, you ain't passed the eye test
You don't really know how scary the night gets
On stage make a light mess, I only rock live sets
Why yes, me & my brother playin high chess
Nice flex in the endzone with a high step
I ain't name my price yet, you ain't really nice yet
Me, I'm Scott Steiner down the ramp, kiss the bicep
Beat the system with some wisdom from the past endeavors
Put the passion on a beat & make it last forever
Shit I'm prolly the illest, sickest bastard ever
There I go again, off the top rope again
The finisher, the minster bless your soul again
The water fire in this ocean that I'm floatin in
They call me sire in this throne room I'm posted in
I'm closing in on the truth, another dose again
My rhymes rugged but the flows are made of porcelain
So save your childish looks, I'm with the wildest crooks
I'm like a howlin wolf listening to Howlin' Wolf
Built the mental in a temple reading Shaolin books
Monk shit, punk shit, pure funk shit
Pull up to The Golden Globes in my golden robes
Foldin foes, anyone who knows em knows
Rollin groves of the holy juana
Smoky bomber got me hesitant to give hugs, sorry mama
Love from a distance still love
The Lower real bugged, yeah we drink Henny, spill blood
Me & Shoota Steve chief when we shoot the breeze
When we shoot hoops, I'm Kobe with the shooting sleeve
True indeed, you ain't hot, you like 2 degrees
Word to me, I let your shorty blow me & she blew her knees
Dog your life need a life vest
You lookin type stressed, you ain't passed the eye test
You don't really know how scary the night gets
On stage make a light mess, I only rock live sets
Why yes, me & my brother playin high chess
Nice flex in the endzone with a high step
I ain't name my price yet, you ain't really nice yet
Me, I'm Scott Steiner down the ramp, kiss the bicep