Rass Kass Soul on Ice [Remix] Lyrics

The waterproof MC, you ain't wettin' me
You need to stop rappin' and start robbin' banks like Steady B
Cause see, no matter how much green you make
You never taste the avocado, just another broke Versace model
Tiger Woods ain't even up to par in the game of survival
That's why I'm p___in' in y'all Cristal bottles
Drink Listerine, brush my teeth with amphetamine
So I can sound fresh and say dope things in between
Three strikes to five mics (forever snortin'), I want a woman
With the body of a w____ and a personality like Lauryn
Can't even say I didn't know 'cause while we wanna be
NWA they create the NWO
(How many years, fo' mo') so f___ them fake John Gotties
Ain't got no Mazzeraties I be at the party sippin' on Todies
My n____s pumpin' areas, out Audies in Saudi
I'm thuggish ruggish to the bone, and I'm gonna dis everybody.

[Chorus X2:]
You want the truth, can't handle the truth, you want
Lexus Moonroof, Hennesssy 80 proof
n____s scared to death, playin' the game of life
Soul on ice.

I keep the afterparty swervin', *inhale* not quite like Michael Irvin
Edumacating urban youth, like it or not
These soliloquies explain our people's lack of stability
You keepin it real, but ain't got a clue what reality really be
See the diameter of your knowledge
Is the circumference of your activity, me
I knew the deal before Babyface went solo, baggin' dime pieces
Stackin' dividends and dressin' in more linen than Yoko Ono
But on the low doe we fightin' over the scraps
Worshippin' the almighty dollar
In God We Trust, look it over
Now what the f___ pyramids got to do with the pilgrims or Jehovah
'Novus Ordo Seclorum' means 'New World Order'
That's why I keep my friends close and my enemies closer
We runnin' around in thousand dollar clown suits
Better get some boots when Lucifer turn your city to Beirut.

[Chorus X2]

Void one time got Lela Rochon callin' my Jimmy Sunshine
Fifth floor on the Mandriane, so go 'head fella
Pop your dime, I'm the man whose esophagus
Transform to a gat like Megatron
He's a sporter known to Bob Costas, give it a name and you a hater
But violence don't play that game
Guerilla penmanship, the, preacher impeacher
Heat seek an MC when I get p___ed like a urethra
My day-to-day I'm tryin' to bubble, first place
This paper I chase, Touch Me and Tease Me like Case
But in the millennium, this CREAM turns electronic
UPC barcodes on the hand is demonic
They got concentration camps from Alaska to Jersey
But when the President declare a national emergency
You can't crock notes tryin' to Rock The Vote
I'm spittin' razor-sharp quotes tryin' to slit the Pope's throat.

[Chorus X2]

Uh, uh
Yeah
I'm rhymin', beats provided by Diamond.

See also:

50
50.13
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