Sællt verið fólkið, Cultuz from Denmark inda house :)

Ég er 17 ára piltur frá Danmörku og er að gera góða hluti hér so far, er að fá record deal og svona og ætlaði bara deila smá með ykkur tekstum sem ég hef samið :) COPYRIGHT. NO BITE.

By the way sem ég mest á ensku.

Sendi links þegar ég er búinn að recorda þetta í stúdío.

—

Realer then Real:

Yo, I want you to listen to this shit, so pay attention.

Yo, this song is built around the concept, that I heard some said, that killing's where the fun's at,

So people where yo guns at? Go roll where the bum's at, see the logic in that?

Hurry, Feel free to kill three before sunset, (cool)

So I can tell you where the bonus's at dude, respect foo', that's all you get (Boohoo), In fact and all In act,

It's all about dog or cat, the whole way through, Pop one and your other G tops two, but who stops you? Another G who pops you?

Or perhaps cops when they bust you?

Some 2pac with a vocab lying blast foo's, tryin' pass through, but this business past you,

Betta catch up fast son, age of realness is on.

–

When asked, I ain't innit for the cash nor the ass
Oh, blast, I thought I would've passed that test
But that shit's just bonuses,
I Ain't in this game solely for the hoes'n'tits,
A Real motherfuckerfucker like me focuses,
That's the reason why my game goes on like this

I spit realer then real, are you feelin' this?

–

Everybody's rappin' about nine's and G's, bitch wiggas please, if you wanna find n' masterpiece,

stay for real, say what you feel, be the real deal, that'll make ‘dem bitch wiggas squeel,

Like Shaq O’neil, fit as steel, still got bit'n'peeled, when Heat wrecked his sex appeal,

They say skills don't sell, I'll show'em hell, when I blow'em head, with rhymes more intact, then the fact, That,

Justin T, still bustin' Britney, playin' with infidelity, no tricks on the street, no, this shit's reality,

bitch asked for beef, let's put it like: T, he had this saint homie, homie was phony, now he ain't lonely.

I told thee, Keep it real, see, or shit-end-up-catastrophy,

–
When asked, I ain't innit for the cash nor the ass
Oh, blast, I thought I would've passed that test
But that shit's just bonuses,
I Ain't in this game solely for the hoes'n'tits,
A Real motherfuckerfucker like me focuses,
That's the reason why my game goes on like this

I spit real n' keep it the same, are you feelin' this?
–


They say rap is the language of the street, I say it's a rhyme with a little somethin' from the beat ‘n’ the mind,

and of course the most important part, your shit ain't worth fart, without shit comin' from your heart.

Also another thing I came up on, ther's nothin' a black mc hates more then a white one,

if I'd drop the N bomb in this song, there'd be a fight on,

Rejected n' stomped, in the end injected with a blood pump

Ya'll got 9's ‘n talk about dead shit, I say your song’s whack shit n' delivers wrong message to whack kids,

attack that, tap this, slap that, wrap this, act this, practice,

and one day G, you end up in a casket, with these other foo's who let loose n' blast shit,

thinkin' DAMN! I should'a passed this, test this and see if you will last this.


I see these people rap and claim that they real
But they forget to think what listeners feel







Keep it real

Rap about things you feel

Spit Realer then real
—-

Realize Legalize:

Yo, when I first grew up around age six, my daddy tore apart the family for the next day's fix,
But we're talking Needles. I'm here to define




If you like livin' life on da fast end, you might drop like flies in the last end.

Cause you been rammed, by life itself, I can't stand, to watch people get slammed, all around life's walls, and,

These fuckers can't comprehand, that it's fuckers like me with the upper hand.

Innocent people feelin' misplaced, disgraced, and all cause there is only one taste.


{“Coke is for the snitch and da needle's for a K O bitch.
Snort a line on these chieseled tits!
Weed is the shit, perfect fit for every kid.
Take a hit on this mean shit, kid, and if you wanna quit, don't worry about it
Don't feel like a turd, even though you might have heard, that weedsmokers are absurd and that they never gonna
gonna get learned”} <– Chorus


Yo I can take a nice long toke, without gettin' broke and without needin' to poke, some filthy ass needle in my ass yo.

And when I walk down the street, I see these people in need, I see people shred up, I see people teared up,

fed up, I see people stared on, scared up, feared out I see people not getting cared for.

And mabey you should take a nice long look, because any of you could be the next on the hook,

people stop up and see, the similarities to thee, and learn a lesson or two,

Cause you don't want life fuckin' with you.

But as said, weed ain't shit, weed is the shit, weed is the best hit, weed ain't nasty, it's fly fantastic.

Weed is a grown plant by god, it was sent down here, ain't that odd? Yet you criminalize, it's time to realise and legalize,

Cause people still gettin' high,// and there ain't shit you can do, that's life.


“Coke is for the snitch, and da needle's for a K O bitch.
Snort a line on these chieseled tits!
Weed is the shit, perfect fit for every kid.
Take a hit on this mean shit, kid, and if you wanna quit, don't worry about it”

I see people argue over legalization, Amstedam, how can you outright a whole nation,

Why all this fucking implication, there ain't no harm in takin' a hit on a good occasion,

take a trip and see the Weed Sensation, and get some fucking information and change the situation.

Cause things ain't right as they are lad, 8 procent chance of getting hooked, is that so bad?//

It's sad, to see people argue over shit like that.

(Undirspil)

“Coke is for the snitch and da needle's for a K O bitch.

Weed is the shit, perfect fit for every kid.

Take a hit on this mean shit, kid,

and if you wanna quit, don't worry about it”



No more drugs, no more thugs, no more hate, no more debate, no more wars, no more laws!
—-

I killed Shaft!: (BULL LAG! BARA FUN BRAINSTORM)

Baby I wrote you ‘round eleven, I think about you twenty four seven, even when I’m in seven eleven,

I can't forget the stuff you said, about me and that I had

No romantic side, I'm sorry, but that's all I am.

You know I never ment to slam, that door in your face, but I remember when you shut your

bearded clam, and I came all over the place, that was the nastiest case, I even came on my

own face, that was a disgrace.

I think about you and your clam, but man, why you gotta deny me the ham, I love you more

then Sam! And that dude is a man, although he has no can, he's as muscular as HE-MAN,

And at least he can toke some weed man, Although he's a little shit like Peter Pan.

Like this one day at the downtown LAN, where he got his own dick stuck in this fan, and threw a total fit man, that was the funniest shit man,




I think about you and little Johnny, and honey, I'm paying 10 Procent more money,

for child support, that's funny, seeing as I can't use you as my little bunny,

I don't need this shit from you honey, you'll make me freak out like Sean Connery, I ain't

got a nickle in my pocket, How am I supposed to pay a 10 buck infinte, fuck it, it's lame,

I ain't even in the game, and I still gotta pay the wage, and earning that money on stage,

ain't so easy, I'm enraged, I can't seize it, It's gettin' late and I ain't been paid, for

the last age, and now there's this debate, about those 10 bucks, puttin me in a state,

of mind, and it makes me much less kind, I thought the ring would bind, me and you together,

but you fucked me from behind, and that's why I will find, you and Johnny, are you blind?

You think that you can get away this easy? Like that time you had this midget please me,

in order to peace me, cause it was my birthday, and I ain't got nothin' teasy, from you, so

you sent a fucking midget, fully packed with gadget, then you left you freaky can, that was kinda sneaky man,

I thought we were supposed to be together, forever, and never ever again have to think about Denver,

Like when we then were, married and I was on my way to Standford




I'm drivin' 30 per hour, I ain't had a shower nor the power to flower for hours, sorry, didn't mean to sound so sour.

Anyways, you ‘bout to commit suicide, vomit, spew it tight, here, suck it right, then I thrust it at the speed of light,

down your throat till you puke aight?, then thrust again, leaving you to fight, your own vomit comin’ up yo shite,

Bith you gon' suffocate tonight.

But hold on tight, cause I don't bite, or do I? Oh right.. Well mabey I should feed you, then beat you and afterwards eat you,

Cause I don't roll with heat foo', I'm a straight insane, me plus this path, math says psycopath don't tempt my wrath,

Cause bith you havn't seen the half, I once sliced up a baby and laughed, can you picture the draft? Point is, I'm sicker then Shaft.

Mentioning that, Shaft called me yesterday and said hey, he told me to pray cause he was gonna come at me to lay, me down and spray, my face straight brown,

then have me lookin' like a matrix clown, excuse me prick, but if I really wannna look like a goth chick,

I'll slice my dick ‘till it makes you sick

Hear that? That’s Shaft screaming in my trunk, I had him in doggy and humped, thumped and then stomped this guy up front, I told you,

I'm sicker then this punk, Cry all you want, I'm outta this junk.



You should have seen shaft roll down that cliff, it made me wanna roll up a spliff and think about how stiff,

My dick was when I gave him a rift, ramming him in his ass, what a gift, although slamming him in a test, with my 12 inches, certainly his last,

fuck with the best, die like the rest, but that wigga went down fast, and I even found cash, in his wallet while rubbing his round ass,

while he was laying incapitated at last, man I should have fabricated that ass, cause that shit was certainly the best,

After that I sucked on my bong, and proceeded to write this song and all along, I knew there was something wrong, wait a minute mon!

I fucking killed Shaft instead of my babies mom, now the plan's all gone, now I need to find that bitch and have some fun,

Cause I ain't done, till the fat lady sings her song, and I don't care about none, cause anyways, I'm probably done,

But before I'm gone, I want you to know some, I strangled that bitch with thong and now she's gone, how fun, but I ain't gonna run,

I don't give a fuck about a federal out now, Cause I always had it all thought out, and I said it all out loud,

Just listen to what this song's about, That's what all the fuzz about, and I feel like I'm allowed to give a shout-out, to all my people

who's not allowed out, hold on what about our power of a coward, I just run and one day you never found out, who killed Shaft and

that blood-hound, aka. my bitch, yeah that one in my fridge, whoops, you prolly gon' catch me on this,

—

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Holla :)