Thursday, March 31, 2011

“Make Em Say Uhh!” Verse III: Silkk the Shocker

P gon’ make ya say unnnnghhhh, I’m-a make you say aaaahh!
I’m not Eric B. but guaranteed to move this motherfuckin crowd
I stay on like light switches, money, ’cause I like riches
Hittin nothin but tight bitches, call me, I might hit ya
My friend Master P is certainly going to force you to say unnnnghhhh;
However, I am going to force you to say ouch!
I am not hip-hop artist Eric “B.” Barrier, but I do guarantee that I shall
Move this mother-intercoursing crowd, much like the 1988 hit
“Move the Crowd by Eric B. and William Michael “Rakim” Griffin, Junior.
I remain in the “on” position like electric light switches.
I also like to earn more funds, because, simply, I like earning funds.
I only intercourse women with snug vaginas—women,
Telephone me and I may rut with you as well.
Nigga, make ’em say nah-nah-nah, don’t trip
After I bust yo’ shit, then after that say, na-nah-nah-nah
I hang with niggas, I do my thang with niggas
They wanna know if I gangbang, ’cause I hang with a whole gang of niggas
African-American male, make them say, “Nah, nah, nah.” Do not behave doltishly.
After I injure you, I will exclaim, “Na, nah nah nah.”
I carouse with African-American men, I do what I wish with African-American men.
They wish to know if I belong to a criminal syndicate,
Because I associate with a large group of African-American men.
So when we connect, bitch, better respect this, I step quick
’Cause I got a vicious right hand but ya know what? My left is quick too!
“Silkk, you the type of nigga that promotes violence.” You might be right
’Cause I’ll step in the club and say somethin
To get that motherfucker start to fightin! (’Bout it!)
So when we meet, weakling, please respect the fact that I have a short temper.
Because I have a powerful right hand, but do you know what?
My left hand is swift as well!
You say to me: “Vyshonn King ‘Silkk’ Miller,
You are the type of African-American male who promotes violence.”
And perhaps you are correct, because I will enter a nightclub
And say something rude just to incite others to fisticuffs. (I support it!)
Bad as Vogues, I’m cold, extra see-through
And P-D’s the game I spit, No Limit Soldiers got my back
I run this motherfucker, TRU niggas
And I betcha I’ll make you say, “Bet!”
I’m as desirable as Vogue Tyre & Rubber Company-brand rims.
I’m coldhearted, and also transparent.
And being a pimp father is my form of verbal gregariousness.
My friends at No Limit Records will protect me.
I am in charge of this mother-intercourser.
The Real Untouchable African-Americans!
And I wager that I will force you to say, “Wager!”

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