Spoiled Rotten

scratched)

"Lick my sweaty *****."

[Verse 1: J-Zone]

You better lock up the Bacardi at your party when the Zone roll through

In a fur coat that look like I killed the whole Bronx Zoo

ASPCA is outside my house, picketin'

'Cause everything in my coat been previously livin'

Hoes ask why I cut my braids off (Trippin')

So I could look prep and pull Kate Moss *****es

But I don't make babies (No)...I make beats

And got more juice than a hair salon in Compton in the late 80's

[Verse 2: Celph Titled]

Back on the mutha****in' set, Zone pass me the glock

So I can blast and leave a hole the size of Flava Flav's clock

But either ****** hate or they jock, you pay 'till you're broke

We from the hood, where we beat our kids with cables and ropes

Load them hammers in the car before I bust back

Crash a bike in your face, and leave you with a handlebar mustache

Celph Titled fell off? What made you think that?

I came here to downsize the game: no CD's, just "shrink wrap"

[Verse 3: J-Zone]

I used to bang groupies like your sister, but I quit it for sure

"These girls are simply for the money" "And your sister's a whore!"

Nowadays I diss hoes, wantin' Zone to get Olympic

And strip clothes and broad jump with ten inches of limp ****

But what about Zone and your mama?

He threw his ***** between her legs like he was playin' for the Globetrotters

Thinkin' you rock? Y'all gets nothin'

'Cause I talk trash, you collect it like Charles S. Dutton, mutha****a!

[Chorus: Celph Titled & J-Zone]

Rude! Crude! Spoiled! Rotten!

J-Zone and Celph Titled ain't nothin' but problems

Throw eggs at your favorite MC

Locate your face and then pee

So if you don't like us, you can hum these ****

We put foes in they place and then leave

(scratched)

"Rude...arrogant...entirely offensive"

"Look out America, here we come!"

[Verse 4: Celph Titled]

I don't care what Biggie said, I still dream of ****in' Xscape

That big girl could find out, just how my third leg tastes

I like my pockets fat, and my *****es fatter

Up until I was ten, I thought my name was just "Little Bastard" (You little bastard!)

****** rap to pay they bills, but never got cash

Catch you at the bar, I'm puttin' bullets through your shot glass

Knock your mutha****in' Pro Tools off sequence

Y'all ****** is like Dr. Dre in '83: all sequins

[Verse 5: J-Zone]

(Hey J, when's your video gonna be on TV?)

When the surveillance tape from KFC gets sent to BET

(J, I need my nails done) What? "Dumb broad"

You'd have better luck at the White House, lookin' for a job

With a Jheri curl and shower cap on

Doin' a kid and play Kick Step with a crackhead on the front lawn

In a "All Hail Saddam" T-shirt, holdin' two Glocks

And C-Bo's Greatest Hits pumpin' from your boombox

"Let's go...bump it, I know you hear me comin'"

[Verse 6: Celph Titled]

It's time to oil up my jaw bone, and get ready for slick talk

O.G. swagger, that's the way this here spic walk

About to unleash a sleek metal hatchet (Why?)

'Cause y'all sound faker than Alicia Keys' ghetto accent (Oh)

Get snapped in fragments and fed to lab rabbits

All I got is my *****, guns, and bad habits

Keep you paranoid, become a crabby sleeper

'Cause I got you sniffin' more "'caine" than Big Daddy's retriever