Conceited Bastard Lyrics by Ras Kass

Conceited Bastard Lyrics

    Verse 1:

    I created verb-noun ??? (the most beautifullest shit)
    I make up like foundation, now who you facing?
    The waterproof emcee,
    Ras blessed the mic faster than ramadan in mach 3
    Get off my dick, nigga
    And tell your bitch to come here
    And stick your dick in your eardrum and fuck what you heard (yeah)
    Fa sheezy, articulate drama
    Multiple lacerations between consecutive commas
    I like my ill nana wet, my martini dry
    Whippin' a bmw 540-i (drunk driving miss daisy)
    Devil in a blue dress packing heat
    While i'm doing doughnuts in the middle of the street
    My middle east metaphors motivate religious wars
    Jah-hah (plus some other middle east dialect)
    Get it popping like felicia and amhad rashad
    Keep my game face on like a goalie
    So stick yourself, pretty tony

    Chorus:
    You, you are, you conceited bastard (8x)


    Verse 2:

    (we still got some non-believers) so i'ma drop the bomb
    Like the one-armed wide reciever
    See we be off the hook like (busy signal from phone)
    Criminally insana, my brain do the macarena
    Attack the varicose vanity who spin cancer
    Rhetorical question, a hypothetical answer
    Wouldn't swallow my tongue at a seizure
    Speak my mind at my leisure
    Living singe with more hoes than khadijah
    And when i'm bent, it's the circus without a tent
    Clowning all baby-face ass niggas who love hoes and pay rent
    Give a chicken six cents for gucci boots (hell no!)
    I rather mop the floor at a peep show
    What part of "i'm the shit?" don't you understand? (gooby bitch)
    Your favorite rapper is a ras kass fan
    So, how many dykes do i flip on the daily?
    Many money, just give me plenty henny remmy

    Chorus: 8x again

    Verse 3:

    (well, that's true) damn, skippy
    I put that on everything i love
    Like when lucy was fucking ricky
    Got more stripes than adidas
    I'm cavy like fish fetus
    See money snit and bullshit out-run cheetahs
    Too much perputrating, not enough lyricism
    Indo got you believing what your pen do
    Faking pugilism, the evil you claim you and your man do
    With a gloc, when you least likely to red dot a 7-up can
    My man, understand, i got connections
    So much doe in my pocket, i give my girl a yeast infection
    I'm big-headed like babies with down syndrome
    Is you a playa from the himalyas with jerome-rome
    This one girl tried to billy jean me
    But i was wearing two rubbers
    So name that nigga, whodini (laughing)
    Controversal reversal, this is my planet
    You just a reebok commercial

    Chorus

    What, nigga, check, check, yeah
    Uh, huh, yeah, yeah
    This goes out to all the critics
    You can suck the didick
    Check this out for all the bitches to the radio
    Don't hate me though, you don't know me

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