Dressed for the occasion all black from the tip top
All the way down to his socks, he's grieving over his loss
Heavy precipitation, umbrella catches the drip drop
A girl's crying so much her tears are smearing the lip gloss
Standing in a graveyard yeah she lies in this spot
It's not a regular death, like no she didn't get shot
But there's a tombstone in written across it's top
It's got the word 'Hip-Hop'
When will they make hits stop?
I'm pissed off at how the wack rappers always get props
And get pop-ular while real rappers never get shots
Just 'cause I don't wanna make a song about a wrist watch
Or $1000 flip-flops, or brag about how much shit cost
See I just wanna be the hardest artist ever
With the most retarded metaphors, the best with the bars all together
But they don't wanna let a, rapper that lyrically slaughters get a chance
They stamp with the scarlet letter 'cause my bars are better
So am I evil 'cause every verse is lyrical?
Think about it
Am I evil 'cause every verse is lyrical?
Man, let that sink in
They say my raps don't make sense
Because my raps don't make sense, and I'm too complicated
So am I evil?
Look
This is a non fiction tale
How many quarters do I have to flick inside of this wishing well?
Used to wish on stars to make it out of this living hell
But on those dark nights I never Gotham'd, Christian Bale
My pencil fails to tell the story I meant to tell
I just hope my records hit the shelves and they get to sale
Before I'm an infidel, sent to jail without gettin' bail
Or skin shift and peeled 'cause I got hit with twelve different shells
Nowadays they talk good but don't listen well
Doesn't even matter if you have bars off the Richter scale
Or if you're sicker than Sickle Cell
Or spit with diction that only exists in Yale or have Pac, Big and L encrypt his cell
Man, feel like goin' to food of Chip 'n' Dales
When a rapper claims to grip a pistol well but scared to chip his nails
They're jokes like Peter Griffin whiippin' a chicken's tail
Or instant fail as caters who tripped and fell when the missed the rail
So am I evil 'cause every verse is lyrical?
Think about it
Am I evil 'cause every verse is lyrical?
Man, let that sink in
They say my raps don't make sense
Because my raps don't make sense, and I'm too complicated
So am I evil?
Justin Freeman - E.V.I.L. Lyrics
Justin Freeman - E.V.I.L. Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Dressed for the occasion all black from the tip top
All the way down to his socks, he's grieving over his loss
Heavy precipitation, umbrella catches the drip drop
A girl's crying so much her tears are smearing the lip gloss
Standing in a graveyard yeah she lies in this spot
It's not a regular death, like no she didn't get shot
But there's a tombstone in written across it's top
It's got the word 'Hip-Hop'
When will they make hits stop?
I'm pissed off at how the wack rappers always get props
And get pop-ular while real rappers never get shots
Just 'cause I don't wanna make a song about a wrist watch
Or $1000 flip-flops, or brag about how much shit cost
See I just wanna be the hardest artist ever
With the most retarded metaphors, the best with the bars all together
But they don't wanna let a, rapper that lyrically slaughters get a chance
They stamp with the scarlet letter 'cause my bars are better
So am I evil 'cause every verse is lyrical?
Think about it
Am I evil 'cause every verse is lyrical?
Man, let that sink in
They say my raps don't make sense
Because my raps don't make sense, and I'm too complicated
So am I evil?
Look
This is a non fiction tale
How many quarters do I have to flick inside of this wishing well?
Used to wish on stars to make it out of this living hell
But on those dark nights I never Gotham'd, Christian Bale
My pencil fails to tell the story I meant to tell
I just hope my records hit the shelves and they get to sale
Before I'm an infidel, sent to jail without gettin' bail
Or skin shift and peeled 'cause I got hit with twelve different shells
Nowadays they talk good but don't listen well
Doesn't even matter if you have bars off the Richter scale
Or if you're sicker than Sickle Cell
Or spit with diction that only exists in Yale or have Pac, Big and L encrypt his cell
Man, feel like goin' to food of Chip 'n' Dales
When a rapper claims to grip a pistol well but scared to chip his nails
They're jokes like Peter Griffin whiippin' a chicken's tail
Or instant fail as caters who tripped and fell when the missed the rail
So am I evil 'cause every verse is lyrical?
Think about it
Am I evil 'cause every verse is lyrical?
Man, let that sink in
They say my raps don't make sense
Because my raps don't make sense, and I'm too complicated
So am I evil?
All the way down to his socks, he's grieving over his loss
Heavy precipitation, umbrella catches the drip drop
A girl's crying so much her tears are smearing the lip gloss
Standing in a graveyard yeah she lies in this spot
It's not a regular death, like no she didn't get shot
But there's a tombstone in written across it's top
It's got the word 'Hip-Hop'
When will they make hits stop?
I'm pissed off at how the wack rappers always get props
And get pop-ular while real rappers never get shots
Just 'cause I don't wanna make a song about a wrist watch
Or $1000 flip-flops, or brag about how much shit cost
See I just wanna be the hardest artist ever
With the most retarded metaphors, the best with the bars all together
But they don't wanna let a, rapper that lyrically slaughters get a chance
They stamp with the scarlet letter 'cause my bars are better
So am I evil 'cause every verse is lyrical?
Think about it
Am I evil 'cause every verse is lyrical?
Man, let that sink in
They say my raps don't make sense
Because my raps don't make sense, and I'm too complicated
So am I evil?
Look
This is a non fiction tale
How many quarters do I have to flick inside of this wishing well?
Used to wish on stars to make it out of this living hell
But on those dark nights I never Gotham'd, Christian Bale
My pencil fails to tell the story I meant to tell
I just hope my records hit the shelves and they get to sale
Before I'm an infidel, sent to jail without gettin' bail
Or skin shift and peeled 'cause I got hit with twelve different shells
Nowadays they talk good but don't listen well
Doesn't even matter if you have bars off the Richter scale
Or if you're sicker than Sickle Cell
Or spit with diction that only exists in Yale or have Pac, Big and L encrypt his cell
Man, feel like goin' to food of Chip 'n' Dales
When a rapper claims to grip a pistol well but scared to chip his nails
They're jokes like Peter Griffin whiippin' a chicken's tail
Or instant fail as caters who tripped and fell when the missed the rail
So am I evil 'cause every verse is lyrical?
Think about it
Am I evil 'cause every verse is lyrical?
Man, let that sink in
They say my raps don't make sense
Because my raps don't make sense, and I'm too complicated
So am I evil?
Writer: Michael Smith
Copyright: Lyrics © SMITHHOUSE MUSIC PUBLISHING, Songtrust Ave
Copyright: Lyrics © SMITHHOUSE MUSIC PUBLISHING, Songtrust Ave