{*woman screams*}

I'm obsessed
with multiple nude photographs of the beat in my room on the wall
Pondering the verses, fondling my balls and
Witness a nigga who will take rap and chase it
Through unoccupied dimly lit staircases and rape it
Grab the drums by the waistline {*DJ scratch*}
I snatch the kick, kick the snares and sodomize the bassline
Never waste time, I give the verse rabies
Cum on the chorus, tell the hook to swallow my babies
Maybe I might... switch! Let the witch live
The original plan was to kill the bitch on the bridge
Ditch the body parts off somewhere near the crescendo
When my innuendos elapse... my mental window attacks;
the instrumental elapses
Perhaps that's the only reason that I spared her life
You could solo my fuckin vocals and I still get trife
Slice the rhythm... disfigure the face of the groove
For any fader that flies or knobs or button that moves
Consider this: the loops are similar to clitorises exposed
On your miss is a hole, a vicious cycle of SIN!
That doesn't end 'til I stop fuckin
A million emcees and they ain't sayin nuttin

Ain't fuckin it right, they ain't fuckin it right
They ain't fuckin it right, they ain't fuckin it right
They ain't fuckin it like... ME

{*DJ scratch*} "Yesss! Yesss!"

She had the nerve to take the case to court, knowin I rape for sport
Took the stand cryin denying her whole invovlvement lying
Why would an ex-cop lie in a sex shop, fly linen down grinnin
with my coat over my shoulder sittin
Browsin pornography (uhh!)
The stenographer smilin the whole time while jotting verbal photography
Her eyes mahogany
I flashed to a photo in my mind of a body
bludgeoned with slashed arteries
Pardon me, back to the case, slap in the face
Examinin the jury similar to crackin a safe
What happens to bass? It was anistic, I would inhale eighths
Sniff that, sat her ass all over my face to taste it
To hell with 1980 remixes - fuck disco
Turned on the 3000, stuck my dick where the disc go
Yokonaz, ripped the sexy MPC 60, buyin a ticket to hell
Verbally dickin the 12 down, sound shitty
I knew she used to be gritty
Too many impotent emcees in this God forsaken city

Ain't fuckin her right, ain't fuckin her right
Ain't fuckin her like... ME

Consider this (what?) Loops are similar to clitorises exposed
On your miss is a hole, a vicious cycle of SIN!
That doesn't end 'til I stop fuckin
A million emcees and they ain't sayin nuttin

Ain't fuckin it right, they ain't fuckin it right
They ain't fuckin it right, they ain't fuckin it right
They ain't fuckin it right, they ain't fuckin it right
They ain't fuckin it like... ME

Writer : Jamerson, Troy Donald
Copyright : Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.