Back to the previous page

Artist: Deadly Venoms
Album:  Pretty Thugs
Song:   Black Out
Typed by: Cno Evil

We gon' ride while it's hot ya'll, first blood
Do or die, to the top, ya'll, you know I'm with it
Spit bricks like a masonary, I masquerade
So hold on tight, you headed for an escapade
Intensive ride, any situation at hand
Street knowledge, no game, only rock with my fam
DV's to the death, never backing us down
And if you think it's gangsta, come to my part of town
You know the borough, QB never die
But I'mma thug it out, so throw your V's in the sky
And get high, blacking out on this track
20 parts more, so step the fuck back
If your wack, keep that shit to a minimum
Smack you with the mic, while the bass is killing 'em
Murder murder, please on MC's like the wind
I hear you knocking but I'm not letting you in
It ain't the end, and if you blind, I'mma make you see
Got you shook under pressure like you in the army
So bitch please, you can never regulate this
Have you running scared like that fucking Blair Witch
It ain't a game, Venom #1 is the name
I get my head right spitting venomous flame

[Champ Diva]
I'mma get Rah like Digga, Flipmodes like Squad, my nigga
And Lord is my name, Champ from the Venom
Get the picture? Venom #4, get raw
Raw is war, now the war's on
I'm like Rock from, WWF, if you can..
Smell what I'm cooking, then play the left
I'm like the princess warrior of rap, Miss
Van Damme, kicking ass on rights
I'm like a runaway train, throw your ass off track for real
Rocks the World like fam boy will still
Spitting Venom in your vein, stopping all thoughts from going
Through your brain, nigga, it ain't a game, it ain't a game
Nigga, word up, the streets is watching
You was popping, wherever there drama, it ain't no stopping
Shorty but thug, this is for my thug, and what
Oooh, get ya fingers out my butt
Still on my shitlist, can I get a witness?
Yeah, hitter, handle your business
Now what? Venom, Venom, what what?
Venom, Venom, what, what, what what?

[Chorus: J-Boo]
We gon' black out on this track, spit that
20 bars never coming wack, so step back
Hold it down when the snakes attack, we run that
Get that, rip that, Pretty Thugs, where you at?

I ramble on the tar heel, peep dudes paying up my bar meal
I can tell you how a hundred thousand dollar car feel
But I don't brag on materialistics
I rather rap about rubbing on grits and biscuits
I think it's lame, sippin' on expensive champagne
I sip the beer, and my buzz be the same thing
I like draft, like #1 picks do
Lyrically I blow like snot in tissue
I keep it plain, not a fly nail and hair chick
Yet and still, when I'm out, nigga stare quick
Rock stage with no rehearsing, I'm known for flirting
Chickens rap and every other word they cursing
One thing for sure, two things for certain
You think we look good on TV, wait til you see us in person
I was nice before Madonna was 'like a virgin'
This lucky star get you open like a surgeon
You on minimum wage working long hours
I get paid plenty while your songs in showers
Cuz mine is our, satisfied with what I got, forget mansions and yachts
It draws too much attention to cops
I can take off my Polo, look fly in an Izod
For most to do that, they gots to try hard
Get ready, for the flavor, I'm the pitcher
Look up N-Tyce in the dictionary, see my picture

Yeah, somebody check me in, I'm bout to pin this nigga to the mat
Take that, your dirty rat, don't be coming back
WWF, what, what, Federation shit
Sucking it, like DX Generation
I'm more Vicious than Sid, split your wig
Don't be fronting, here I come, ohh, like Hacksaw Jim Duggan
Ready to warn ya, I thought I told ya
I murder the master who taught ya, so enter torture
Agony and tragedy, and I ain't even think about police bagging me
New York Undercover, but I ain't Malik Yova
Bend that ass into pretzel formation, yo, you took yoga?
What the deal, how you feel, looking over, looking over you shoulder
The cops be dropping boulders, snatch your money, fold up
Well it give it up, turn it loose, dirty deuce
We a hundred percent proof, Smirnoff people
Out of cable, next time, we ain't soft
More like them deadly chicks down to knock you off
Take you to the roof, make you jump off
To the last you lost, get off
Who in the hell left the gate open? Chamel' of course
Camouflaged out on the low, kids scoping you out
Scoping you out, scoping you out

[Chorus 2X]