3rd Bass - Sons of 3rd BassLyrics

Here's my advice to all amateurs planning to give a performance Speak up, and keep the act moving Servin' the role, a sole step-child Talk of C-C or keep sleepin' While wakin' up to noise of third B-A-S-S, Bass Success is butter for Serch's space Spoken slang gets played like the lottery Your lyrics are incorrect, so you step to me Lookin' for the key to release that first piece Three times two is six, Pete is one-three I'm the other half, known as the other trey Tourin' to wild screams, the Third Son's born Swarm to the lyrics 'cause Serch is your father Screaming "Hey Ladies," why bother? How can you be so stupid? Sons, slim ones flee from the third Words, spoken, a silver spoon stuck in the throat Young useless, lyrically careless Rhyme revolves around modes of mindless If everyone spoke of stick-up, it's pick of a Beast' Prone to a lick of a waste Taste the flav' of the original Orphaned trio, abandoned by lyrical Through us, the echelon exposed with the roll with no soul Counterfeit style, born sworn and sold Out with high voice distorted If a Beast' to wish play fetus, I'd have him aborted How can you be so stupid? Put to bed, three kids to a third track Cap the front and grip, when they heard that The crew from the L.Q. stepped to the Club Mars Shook the Beast' and soon to be dubbed stars Starring roles stone-faced from the brothers Ludicrous whining, meaning when the others Stand by em, while they take the fall The Beast' now lives in the Capitol Record wrecks sets, Def Jam a true wrecker The label is nothing but MC Black 'n' Decker Three boys buggin' to the A.M. You step to the Serch and I slam! How can you be so stupid? Negative mind, paid as snakes who can't rhyme Play the dude? It's sucker time I stand I take a bust in my nut And gave birth to three bastard sons A record label, a King to 4th letter Passin' phases, non-legitimate trendsetters Pop figures, who figured they'd get paid Exploitin' art the black man made Played out hardcore flaws, step to stage Your biggest fan, nine years of age Broke out cause the swindler took your ducat No talent on the tune, you might as well suck it How can you be so stupid? Yo Serch, you know about that slum I'm speakin' on? Word is bond Pete, school 'em! You know about that silver spoon havin' Buckshot acne showin', L.A. weak-ass sellout Non-legitimate, tip doggin', Jethro pseudo intellectual Dust smokin', pretty boy playwright posin' Folks wiggin', whinin' annoyin' Def Jam reject devil White bread no money havin' slum village people clonin' Step children! Sam Sever, serve the rest Yo Sam, school em! He is stupid, but he knows that he is stupid And that, almost makes him smart, let's listen Let's listen