Diabolique

(Kool Kieth)<br>Yeah....Dr. Strange love...once again I gotta tell you how it is....<br><br>Verse 1: (Kool Kieth)<br>I used to check out, use the mad route <br>stare at these ugly bitches, sit at the table with frowns with their<br>stomachs out<br>cellulite for weeks, rules in these NewYork streets<br>with mad Babies, big heads movin` in the stroller<br>you gettin` older while that dress hangs off your shoulder<br>you stupid bitch<br>he`s sick, the kids got the shits<br>you walkin` wack with those problems in your ass crack<br>you chose this nigga, he`s a zero girl, doin` nothin`<br>you was buggin` because the bum had curly hair<br>you got psyched, the baby came out with some nappy hair<br>you was a fine freak, thoroughbred dumb with no head<br>I seen you screamin` with your panties up in B.B.Q`s<br>your friends are fat with guts, breakin` all the rules<br>you choose to lose, no cheers, recievin` booes<br>rent is due with some old crab nigga fuckin` you<br>it`s true, it`s summertime, what you gonna do?<br>every winter you got this gay man screwin` you<br>this bitch is a problem, no money, fuckin` dummy<br>she`s from the slum actin` fly eatin` bread crums<br>shoplifted programs out on the boulevard<br>stretch marks leak out your tight dress, your legs are scarred<br>yeah....<br><br>Chorus (singing)<br>Voices inside my head<br>problems keeping you fed<br><br>Verse 2: (Godfather Don)<br>This bullshit needs to cease<br>rappers rappin` for cheese<br>it`s like a disease the way niggas be snatchin` your fees<br>executives, even accountants playin` artists like chips<br>the last time you were legit I was suckin` on nips<br>up in my shit like a Dog checkin` the sex<br>maybe to get in the Lex<br>hey, they forget, all the doors slammin` <br>they crammin`, eye jammin` <br>wait, "My shows slammin`"<br>cash up your nose Hammond<br>landin` deals ain`t shit if your label ain`t shit<br>nitwits spit for sips while I flip scripts legit <br>commit to whippin` ass on the mic, it`s like a fuckin` runway<br>these niggas is like bitches fleein` from gunplay<br>one day when lyrical finesse is stressed instead of dress I`ll compress<br>compression and hate, blow out the best<br>but it`s cool, fools like you makin` crews thats blue stay true<br>one-Thousand lyrical orators, pay dues<br>so snooze and get dissed<br>bust in the head with Cris`, fake ice on your wrist<br>I`m nice and you on my dick like piss<br>you wish you was half the lyricist that I persist to be<br>don`t say shit to me<br>Godfather like cicily<br>the misery`s consistency through similes will blemish these<br>abnormalities in the industry. <br><br>Chorus (singing)<br>Voices inside my head<br>problems keeping you fed<br>voices inside my head<br>problems keeping you fed