"Taste" lyrics
(feat. Esham)
[Violent J:]
Heard thoughts going on in the free world
Broke out the asylum and killed a girl
Just a warm-up, just to get it on
'Cause I'ma be cutting throats 'til the break of dawn
Can't nobody get me
I've always been a psycho, but now they coming with me
That's straight, could we team up?
'Cause I believe every throat deserves a good cut
Look in my brain, it's fucking insane
Roll around naked in the acid rain
Rich bitch fucker took me for a sucker
Now we killing you instead of killing each other
Walked in your house, shot him in the mouth
Lean back the head and pour the brains out
My lyrics are strong, it's only a song
The government front like they don't know what's going on
Fuck it, I'll take the matter in my own hands
Cut you down, cat, cut you down
'Cause I know the rich go joggin'
And I'm waiting in the bushes, axe to the noggin
(Come on, come on now, bitch, come on)
About thirty, forty times
Psychedelic sick with the psycho, psycho rhymes
But you keep the killin' in one place
But I'm at your door, motherfucker, have a taste
[John Kickjazz (Shaggy 2 Dope) {John Kickjazz & Shaggy 2 Dope}:]
Fucking you up, (won't let you pass)
Fucking you up, shot you in the ass
(Jumped out the alleyway with a motherfucking battle axe)
(12 dead bodies on the motherfucking train tracks)
I'm sick of this shit on my TV
They showing psychopathics and I see me
And you're calling me a homeless hobo
While I'm laying on my suede couch listening to Mojo
(Snipe you in the head from a tower)
(Or chase your naked ass clean out the shower)
(Finally catch you down the block)
(Take this here gat, shoot you in the cock)
Who you fucking with, Governor E?
Don't you know I'll hang your dead ass from a tree
(Yup, then swing you by the foot)
(Mr. Drummond looking, bald-headed, punk bitch)
Strolled to the banquet party
(Drank all their brew), then shot everybody
They set it up wrong
Created the ghetto and thought it wouldn't last long
(Thought we'd kill each other off)
(Didn't think we'd come to the suburbs, jackoff)
The clown'll stick his knife in your face
{Motherfucker, have a taste}
[Jumpsteady:]
In Detroit, do or die, die and be done with
Another wild solution 'cause it's nothing but a wicked man
How many motherfuckers have I known through the years
Got their necks blown out or crippled, living in fear
Now I'ma tell you 'cause I bent out many skulls but they missed
'Cause I'm drawn by from the vision of the Iron Fist
Raised with the crime, with nothing to eat
So my natural instinct's to kill in the street
But I'm above that, a sense of caution
Jumpsteady stepping over the government's brainwashing
Take it, take it further, take it further, take it far
Don't let them even judge you 'cause you know who you are
Seems they don't even know about the inner city crime war
Money on the troops in the desert, what the fuck for
Damn, they're stupid; their minds must be failing
Think I'd rather pay a little extra to a gallon
To save a human life, or two
End this ghetto war for the homies that I once knew
You're peeping out the barn with your closed eyes
(You're peeping out the barn with your closed eyes, ho)
I got a mind killing rage waiting for change
In the folds of my jacket I cradle my gauge
What you gonna do when I show up at your place
Try to ignore it this time, motherfucker, have a taste
[Capitol E:]
You need a spoonful, in other words, a little taste
So let me feed you the city life at a steady pace
Wake up to gunfire, thinking it was a dream
'Til you hear neighbors holler and a young child scream
Every day thing, think you can take it
Just wait 'til you see that crackhead at your front door naked
Begging for money, acting like he know ya
You slam the door in fear, but someday, he'll show ya
Catch you at blank point range, you getting jacked
Come up with it, bitch!
Now you don't know how to act
But that's life and experience is a mother
Happens every day, one after the other
But the suburb living is high-class
Well, High Class, let the city trade with your ass
And show you the rough times
Hungry homeless people committing crime after crime
And bitches burning the pipe for dough
Then they run to the rock store and to buy some rock snow
And I hear you making fun of that
ICP (What's up, E?), get your bats
It's time for you to crack some necks
And if they don't know now, show them what to expect
'Cause it doesn't matter the race or the place
Capital E, giving the inner city taste
[Violent J:]
Yeah, we headed for Birmingham, Grosse Pointe, and Beverly Hills
I thought you knew, 'cause we in a devilish mood
[Esham:]
Guess who's rolling with the ICP
The Black Devil coming straight from the D
I'm headed out to Birmingham
My temperature is burnin', man
Looking for the governor to kill him and I think I can
Violent J know the way, so I'm gonna get you
If you're standing in my way, I'm getting with ya
The Black Devil, that devil you don't know
Getting more pussy than Bell Biv DeVoe
Hey, man, do you know my name?
Esham with NATAS, not Soul Train
So give me mine 'cause it ain't about black or white
It ain't about wrong or right on Devil's Night
I'll burn a cross in your fucking face
Now homicide's got a new case
So give me a taste (So give me a taste, so give me a taste)
(So give me a taste, so give me a taste)
Just, just a little taste, just a little taste
Just, just, have a little taste, have a little taste
Just, just, just a little taste, just a little taste
Just, just, have a little taste, have a little taste
Just, just, just a little taste, just a little taste
Just, just, have a little taste, have a little taste
Just a little taste, just a little taste
Just, just, have a little taste, have a little taste
Just, just, just a little taste, just a little taste
Just, just, have a little taste, have a little taste
Just a little taste, just a little taste
Just, just, have a little taste, have a little taste
Just a little taste
Heard thoughts going on in the free world
Broke out the asylum and killed a girl
Just a warm-up, just to get it on
'Cause I'ma be cutting throats 'til the break of dawn
Can't nobody get me
I've always been a psycho, but now they coming with me
That's straight, could we team up?
'Cause I believe every throat deserves a good cut
Look in my brain, it's fucking insane
Roll around naked in the acid rain
Rich bitch fucker took me for a sucker
Now we killing you instead of killing each other
Walked in your house, shot him in the mouth
Lean back the head and pour the brains out
My lyrics are strong, it's only a song
The government front like they don't know what's going on
Fuck it, I'll take the matter in my own hands
Cut you down, cat, cut you down
'Cause I know the rich go joggin'
And I'm waiting in the bushes, axe to the noggin
(Come on, come on now, bitch, come on)
About thirty, forty times
Psychedelic sick with the psycho, psycho rhymes
But you keep the killin' in one place
But I'm at your door, motherfucker, have a taste
[John Kickjazz (Shaggy 2 Dope) {John Kickjazz & Shaggy 2 Dope}:]
Fucking you up, (won't let you pass)
Fucking you up, shot you in the ass
(Jumped out the alleyway with a motherfucking battle axe)
(12 dead bodies on the motherfucking train tracks)
I'm sick of this shit on my TV
They showing psychopathics and I see me
And you're calling me a homeless hobo
While I'm laying on my suede couch listening to Mojo
(Snipe you in the head from a tower)
(Or chase your naked ass clean out the shower)
(Finally catch you down the block)
(Take this here gat, shoot you in the cock)
Who you fucking with, Governor E?
Don't you know I'll hang your dead ass from a tree
(Yup, then swing you by the foot)
(Mr. Drummond looking, bald-headed, punk bitch)
Strolled to the banquet party
(Drank all their brew), then shot everybody
They set it up wrong
Created the ghetto and thought it wouldn't last long
(Thought we'd kill each other off)
(Didn't think we'd come to the suburbs, jackoff)
The clown'll stick his knife in your face
{Motherfucker, have a taste}
[Jumpsteady:]
In Detroit, do or die, die and be done with
Another wild solution 'cause it's nothing but a wicked man
How many motherfuckers have I known through the years
Got their necks blown out or crippled, living in fear
Now I'ma tell you 'cause I bent out many skulls but they missed
'Cause I'm drawn by from the vision of the Iron Fist
Raised with the crime, with nothing to eat
So my natural instinct's to kill in the street
But I'm above that, a sense of caution
Jumpsteady stepping over the government's brainwashing
Take it, take it further, take it further, take it far
Don't let them even judge you 'cause you know who you are
Seems they don't even know about the inner city crime war
Money on the troops in the desert, what the fuck for
Damn, they're stupid; their minds must be failing
Think I'd rather pay a little extra to a gallon
To save a human life, or two
End this ghetto war for the homies that I once knew
You're peeping out the barn with your closed eyes
(You're peeping out the barn with your closed eyes, ho)
I got a mind killing rage waiting for change
In the folds of my jacket I cradle my gauge
What you gonna do when I show up at your place
Try to ignore it this time, motherfucker, have a taste
[Capitol E:]
You need a spoonful, in other words, a little taste
So let me feed you the city life at a steady pace
Wake up to gunfire, thinking it was a dream
'Til you hear neighbors holler and a young child scream
Every day thing, think you can take it
Just wait 'til you see that crackhead at your front door naked
Begging for money, acting like he know ya
You slam the door in fear, but someday, he'll show ya
Catch you at blank point range, you getting jacked
Come up with it, bitch!
Now you don't know how to act
But that's life and experience is a mother
Happens every day, one after the other
But the suburb living is high-class
Well, High Class, let the city trade with your ass
And show you the rough times
Hungry homeless people committing crime after crime
And bitches burning the pipe for dough
Then they run to the rock store and to buy some rock snow
And I hear you making fun of that
ICP (What's up, E?), get your bats
It's time for you to crack some necks
And if they don't know now, show them what to expect
'Cause it doesn't matter the race or the place
Capital E, giving the inner city taste
[Violent J:]
Yeah, we headed for Birmingham, Grosse Pointe, and Beverly Hills
I thought you knew, 'cause we in a devilish mood
[Esham:]
Guess who's rolling with the ICP
The Black Devil coming straight from the D
I'm headed out to Birmingham
My temperature is burnin', man
Looking for the governor to kill him and I think I can
Violent J know the way, so I'm gonna get you
If you're standing in my way, I'm getting with ya
The Black Devil, that devil you don't know
Getting more pussy than Bell Biv DeVoe
Hey, man, do you know my name?
Esham with NATAS, not Soul Train
So give me mine 'cause it ain't about black or white
It ain't about wrong or right on Devil's Night
I'll burn a cross in your fucking face
Now homicide's got a new case
So give me a taste (So give me a taste, so give me a taste)
(So give me a taste, so give me a taste)
Just, just a little taste, just a little taste
Just, just, have a little taste, have a little taste
Just, just, just a little taste, just a little taste
Just, just, have a little taste, have a little taste
Just, just, just a little taste, just a little taste
Just, just, have a little taste, have a little taste
Just a little taste, just a little taste
Just, just, have a little taste, have a little taste
Just, just, just a little taste, just a little taste
Just, just, have a little taste, have a little taste
Just a little taste, just a little taste
Just, just, have a little taste, have a little taste
Just a little taste
