Food For Mic Skills
- Gym Class Heroes (2001)You are listening to the song Food For Mic Skills by Gym Class Heroes, writer by Gym Class Heroes in album …For The Kids. The highest quality of audio that you can download is flac . Also, you can play quality at 32kbps, view lyrics and watch more videos related to this song.
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Lyrics
Travis been known to spit lyrical backflips on tracks with skate kicks
Osiris had the flyest but i'm all about axion, verbal bigspin
I crooked grind your melon for not listenin'
I'm beyond regular, you stuck in fakie position
The funny thing is i don't skate but i'll deflate your whole ego
Manipulate your face and replace it with something uglier than
The product of sha-nae-nae and patrick ewing havin' a baby
(damn travis you crazy) nah just a little misunderstood
I got the planet in confusion
For the simple fact my vocabulary lacks the word losin'
Contusions are placed across the bodies of any challengers
I'll leave my mark then disappear like j.d. Salinger
As whack emcee's continue scuffin' their knees
Suckin' the dicks of a&r's just to get their platinum chains and cars
I'mma keep on doin' my thing
Broke as macy gray would be with a regular voice trying to sing
Who wanna bring it to these crab apple affiliates
Act silly and you'll get split down the middle like a philly gets
I've had enough of all these silent menaces
I'm for peace but you'll get quickly deceased with violent sentences
The only witnesses will be later notified to come identify the dental
Records of a kid offended mine
You ain't a friend of mine so i suggest you call me mr. Mccoy
Hot shit will burn and blister you boy.
We manifest through tape decks and prismacolor markers
Invade your space like feathers from down parka's
We legends in our own times and every rhyme is living proof
We drinkin' forty's from the fountain of youth
And when we done we're pissin' innocence, cause in a sense
Everything your mouth dispense don't necessarily pay the rent
Or the phone bills, you can't trade food for mic skills
But if you could i'd be eating lovely, believe me.
Travis mccoy be like the influenza, flow sick
These other rappers on some old common cold (shhh)
I'm sicker than that, and plus you always suck (yeck) quicker than that
And h20 aqua we be thicker than that, and if at
Anytime shit gets to hard to handle i'm going out raw
Chainsaw and all like bruce cambell
Steppin' out the darkness with an army of creeps
Caffeine ain't allowin' travis to get no sleep
Cause cat's speak soft, and quick to front hard like charles bronson
Shoutin' out brooklyn, knowin' that they from wisconsin
That's why i'm always concentratin' when i'm puffin' cheeba
We down with new york state and the city of geneva
G-town's my residence that's where i stack my dead presidents
And in my mind it ain't no time for irrelevance
Come on now i thought you knew better
My rhymes are nines and my mouth's a lyrical berretta
But better...yet...i make you sweat like keith
And have your whole crew fallin' out like rotten teeth.
We manifest through tape decks and prisma colored markers
Invade your space like feathers from down parka's
We legends in our own times and every rhyme is living proof
We drinkin' forty's from the fountain of youth
And when we done we're pissin' innocence, cause in a sense
Everything your mouth dispense don't necessarily pay the rent
Or the phone bills, you can't trade food for mic skills
But if you could i'd be eating lovely, believe me.
Who start it like us, rip a part it like us
Who you know jump on the stage and get retarded like us?
Who start it like us, rip a part it like us
Who you know jump on the stage and get retarded like us?
Who start it like us, rip a part it like us
Who you know jump on the stage and get retarded like us?
Who start it like us, rip a part it like us
Who you know jump on the stage and get retarded like us?
Gch will make it happen regardless of the element
From breakdancing, beats, graffiti shit, to straight rappin'
Who got your mama's hands clappin'?
Zappin' cats like the third rail
These rappers soundin' sweet over stale ass beats
Come on get serious
You're making me furious with these lame cliche's and whack hooks
Oh you ain't feelin' me? I'll beat you to death with black books
Now that i got your undivided, you got a mic? You better hide it
I'm creepin' six deep with seven swords of drunk pirates
With eye patches, no teeth and burnt eye lashes
So they don't sleep and stay dodgin' car crashes
I'll smash your pride like a star that just got his fame stolen
Bash you with a mic so hard i'll leave your name swollen
Cut to the chase i'll just get to the point first, cause frankly
You're shit is worse than fred durst's best verse
And(and)it's(it's)like(like)that(that)
We manifest through tape decks and prisma colored markers
Invade your space like feathers from down parka's
We legends in our own times and every rhyme is living proof
We drinkin' forty's from the fountain of youth
And when we done we're pissin' innocence, cause in a sense
Everything your mouth dispense don't necessarily pay the rent
Or the phone bills, you can't trade food for mic skills
But if you could i'd be eating lovely, believe me.
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