"Yeah, but did Fitty Cent ever get hit at wid a shot gun? You want a piece of us? No I mean literally."
Written / Recorded / Conceived / Directed / Edited... blah, blah, blah, By Beau Chevassus
[ Lyrics ]
1935 there was an outbreak,
Got hit by Solanum, given all I could take,
But with a little R & R and rehabilitation,
We signed with a label, now we rock the nation.
We're undead rappers and we dominate the dance,
All we need is raw meat and our torn up pants,
Do you dig the bling? ''Oh you lookin' quite dapper,''
Let us introduce ourselves, we're the undead rappers.
[break it down]
Got a pimped out ride and pair o' filthy kicks,
We're movie stars in a million flicks.
Got stickers on our lids cuz we stain what we touch,
And do the zombie walk cuz our pants ain't much.
We invented the Thriller while just chillaxin',
We're the ones you see backin' up Michael Jackson.
We pack a virus strand that beats any heat,
And when you mess with us, better be off the street.
Don't call us Crips. Don't call us Bloods.
We're our own ballistics, like Cold War SCUDs.
But if you don't pick a fight, you can hang in our hood,
We can krump it up, if you think you could.
We rock YouTube... a machete and a clapper...
You wanna piece of us?
We're the un... dead... rappers...
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