Menage a Trois - Trick Daddy

Multiplicty, out huntin my clones

Rap’s turnin out more sweet proteges than Quincy Jones

My style pendergrass shoes: never touched the ground

My IQ so high it ain’t no number it’s a sound

I’m Jim Brown in his day, toughest nigga to tackle

I’ll leave your brains hangin out like Chris Rock’s adam’s apple

I’m so rare, battlin Chino’s like Africa:

Yeah niggaz talk about it but they don’t really wanna go there

I’m hooked in leather, floored never

Create more tracks than Brandy and Monica’s weaves put together

This to whoever if you rhyme like a daughter of mine

You sound like me so much I think my sperm’s in your water supply

With a war to survive I slaughter and mortify

Creating a torture guy be forced and falsified

And duplicated and authorised

I autograph a girl’s bra, menage-a-trois

I dont want no men in shit, let’s have a women-age-a-trois

(w/ slight variations)

On everything that I love, I attack rap genres.

Fatter than Chaka Khan was

XL excederin verbal medicine sealed for tamperin

Consider me the Master P of God like Kirk Frank-lin

Shoot 'em shank 'em and burn they skin

Blast for laughs at Chino actions

Skill is a blessin you cowards could only imagine

You ain’t an X-Man like comic books, you an ex-man like RuPaul

Run through y’all leave y’all stiffer than Ken dolls

You wanna start friction? Play Don and King and.

. end up gettin fucked like Ving Rhames in 'Pulp Fiction'

My rhymes hot they just might trigger the sprinkler system

Like freaks that Eddie Murphy, call witch you comin up missin

Now you gonna listen?! Or do I have to remind you?

I’ll punch a hole through your chest

and give a pound to the man behind you

Killin you and the nigga that signed you like my Dad invented murder

I rhyme til it’s a torture to me, exhaust like a catalytic converter

It’s sad for me to admit I heard of, you, such a fake one

There’s so many gay rappers

they probably diss me cause I’m the straight one

Plus chicks can’t trick the light-skinned nigga with the long hair

With Nick Cage in an airplane these hoes couldn’t +Con Air+

(w/ slight variations)

Yo, yo, you wanna raise up? Now that takes bravery

I house niggaz like light-skinned-ed Africans durin slavery

I detonate crazily, a bomb, military can’t disable me

So loose in the cypher I got Lucifer ashamed of me

Fuck who you proclaim to be, better reconsider

Turned on wrestlin and Goldberg was like 'Chino that’s a big nigga'

I died a thousand deaths to possess skills such as this

With delivery like where Arabs live: in-tents/intense

Sliding in events riding inside of limos with tints

Been rhyming since Timberland trees were seeds; Burger King was Prince

Better run for the fence, click clack on all you rats

I shoot blindly like I’m Ray Charles with loaded gats

(Shit) The fact is, I’m one of them crazy half-black kids

Like Jesus in the army but I earn my stripes like zebras

Without the H.I.V. I’m positive you don’t wanna test

I leave rappers confused like homeless cats on house arrest