Heat Sensor - Lickupon lyrics

Confirmation of your worst fears Ever since his first years had a thirst for beers Back from the future, it'll make you more sober-er And brought back a long list of fakers who crossed over I'm like, f** it, bubble-baller Catch 'em up at Bob's show, stall him with a troubled caller ba*tard, who could make G's faster Than a newly re-mastered while being truly plastered There's four sides to every story If these walls could talk, they'd probably still ignore me Contemplate war over a cup of warm coffee It's really getting gory, tell your problems to Maury Don't bore V with the "glory, hallelu-ey" Crews be like, fooey he's just a buncha hooey I knew he had new G, who he? Viktor Vaughn He had a new sicker song, I think he call it "Lickupon" Umm but uh, he study rhymes and patter-ins Climb so steep sometimes the beat don't be mattering Sounded like a half-dead from Scurvy band rock A programmed, computer bio-grafted Herbie Hanco*k Maybe next life he'll try harder Died a martyr at the hands of the fire-starter More scripts ripped available for buy or barter Transport a stack to the lab via charter On the microphone he came to daze and amaze ya' What a guy, practice banging flies with razors And watch out for the robot, he got eyes with lasers Tell 'em when they come with more topics besides blazers Enough with the guns already, they're all toys and lames The joy's in the aim, he asked him, how's ya' poison game? Do you bust your crossbow? Also, more so Accurate body blows to torso, thought so These flows you won't find in no "how-to" If the blacksmith doubt you, he smack the sh** out you Make nothing gone, let nothing twitch Just don't be near the mic when the on-bu*ton switch V bring the beef like a trucker to Fuddrucker Delivery to all y'all motherf**ers and bloods**er Copping more pleas than when a rap n***a bicker on And that's my word is bond, I think he call it "Lickupon" Umm, he wrote this one with a fever sick in bed With his dickhead inside a chickenhead No, a dead chicken's head, he said it help his nausea If he lost ya', wait till he tell you about the flying saucer Dag, the kickback'll leave your wig ragged For a big bag of good grizzle and some Zig-Zag Survival, keep a rival in denial And bust what he got just for coming out his pie-hole Die calmer than a suicide-bomber V just the type to do a hoo-ride with momma Said to James Bond, my name is Viktor, Viktor Vaughn Told the chick the quickest way to get on, lickupon