Viro the Virus - Top Dog | Текст песни

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• Viro the Virus
• Top Dog

Artist: Viro the Virus
Album: Outbreak
Song: Top Dog
Typed by: DaSun Akbar

(Intro)
It's now time for our featured presentation
Jersey's finest, it's gon' down
Back in effect, alright, ok, check it out

[Viro the Virus]
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Stampedin' like a psycho rhino
It's the wino named Viro and I know
You can't see my flow through either of your eye holes
Try and get played like Tyco
I snipe foes nocturnal wit night glow
Then ride out back to the hide out to light dro
Too much to deal wit
Wit ill shit steal ya meal ticket real quick then flip the kill switch
I'm bio-hazard rhymin' bastard
Rap the mic in lightning flashes
The rappers turn piles of ashes
Multisyllabic wit court like status
Cold Colt-45 and a ho tight in my attic
Pour some out on the floor for Rick James
Think of Dirt McGirt and do the same thang again
From the womb to the tomb my momentum gains
And music most fluid like it's dope in ya veins

(Chorus)
V shop cars like top dog
An advocate to sex, drugs and hip-hop off the wall
Sick, dope, dope, sick
Yeah, to all of you and y'all and all of 'em
Listen, V shop cars like top dog
An advocate to sex, drugs and hip-hop off the wall
Sick, dope, dope, sick
Yeah, listen that full attention, you don't wanna miss 'em

[Viro the Virus]
Yo you can never play me like a jheri curl
Even when I'm about to hurl off a St. Pauli Girl
With no money for bubbly
I still get bars deep in barkeeps from Coyote Ugly
Got a PHD in Advance Flow Studies
To keep it bouncin' like Man Show juggies
Tighter then bosom buddies
Good, Bad, and Hungry
And got mad hoodrats that love me (Why?)
Cuz I'm fluid and I'm well hung
Do it till it's well done
To leave losers wit their bells rung
Bring the beef like meatloaf
Every emcee's nightmare
The fans say he's such a dream boat
From a cloud of weed smoke I emerge
With obscene quotes and rhymes wit fightin' words
Out for glory and whores wit nice curves
And I can end your story at the tip of the iceberg

(Chorus)

[Viro the Virus]
I'm either too trash to dance lickin' acid stamps
In a classic max stance wit a trashy tramp
(Or) Inhalin' spliffs in Motel 6
With underage runaways takin' black tale flicks
(Or) Drinkin' gin wit a harlot
Steppin' on peasants pestering me to touch the hymn wit my garment
(Or) In the stoop takin' bong hits
Morphing my morbid poetry to songs to put 'em on disc
Either way I'm not the kid to play
My display peals your mascara then leaves your mascaraed in disarray
Hung wit fellas who had the map for Zelda
Now I hang wit cats wit blunt wraps and paraphernalia
Full time failures, plottin' on part time bank tellers
To get dough for a crib wit a wine seller
Boy, I tell you they don't write 'em like they use to
So I hit the stew and cook this up like couscous

(Chorus)

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