Story Behind The Song

Just a song I cooked up after runnin' into beef with some cat on the street. It gave me the inspiration.

Song Description

Street anthem kind song. Beema demonstrates his punchline skills. He lashes out at fake ballers, psycho groupies and sissy boys.

Lyrics

Blaze by Renni Beema

Verse 1:

Thinkin' you'se a superhero, you ain't Meteor Man
Claim you ain't no sissy liking meatier men
Gimme the pen so I can illustrate the way your life is
You unsigned, but I'll show you where the hype is
You lifeless, so bite this/
you got a smaller chance beatin me than if Westley Snipes had white kids
Carry my banger when I'm near to the ghetto
The same ones thuggin' hard wearing pairs of stelletos
I'll expose you like playboy centerfolds/
ya psycho punks with a fetish for lil' boys in pantyhose
Playtoys in your holes, nail paint on your toes
Walkin' round Soho with face paint and a rose
Charmin twinkie rappers better listen up/
instead of gettin' nipples sucked in the beauty parlor gettin' glistened up
Sick of what?! My raps, I'm droppin a new verse
Put that mic down and pick up shoes and a new purse

Chorus 1:
Too hot for radio, that means that we gon' BLAZE
Too cold for jewelry, F it gimme my RANGS (rings)
Platinum D-P piece, white gold FANGS
Beema make it hot, light it on fire MANGGG!!

Hot, Hot, Hot, Hot, Hot BLAZE! x3
Light em trees up, D up 'cause I'mma make it BLAZE!

Verse 2:
I'm the Wizard of Oz and you visitin' Oz
You locked up, gettin' twisted out, kissin' the guards
I'm hood, forget toilets love pissin' in jars
In between your girl's legs after visiting hours
This kid's outta balance, somebody knock me straight
Your homeboys screamin' out, "Why you got me raped?"
'Cause you holdin' nothing down, Beema's ballin' baby
Don't make me go to Hempstead and cop a black 380
Spread brains like gravy, it's Thanksgiving
And that vest won't help when you see shanks lifting
People love fencing, I love boxcuttin' men
Women love fisting, I love gettin' up in em
Nutty and deranged, but I won't bust a WHAT in em
Thugs wear durags, I still see the FLUFF in em
"I love you Renni!" Hell nah, I ain't trustin' em
Put Drano in your drink like mf'ers got rust in em

Chorus 2:
Too hot for radio......

Breakdown:
We could blaze up, Beema, gonna light the streets up
Need a, platinum sound for ya (so I'mma make it BLAZE)
Where my hoodrats, hood cats shootin' craps
C-lo playas and corner thugs (I'mma make it BLAZE)
All my classy girls (BLAZE) BK shooters (BLAZE)
All my rap ballers (BLAZE) all the single mothers (BLAZE)
All my fallen soldiers (BLAZE) my gunshot victims (BLAZE)
Keep reppin' with yo head up! (I'mma make it BLAZE)

Verse 3:
It's the DESP - E - R - A - D -O
Better grab your Lifesaver when you see D flow
Affirmative action might be used/
'Cause ya suckas flows make me sick to my stomach like Chinese Food
You trash, rip you and dump you in I-C-U
Have your wife crying for you on the nightly news
Have your wife crying for me in the penthouse suite
She love a ghetto Blackstar like Kweli Talib
I'm certainly on the right track/
and even if I had no hands, it wouldn't be hard to clap back
Moving it on the fast lane/
I sniff so much cheese it's like my mind switched with that of a rat's brain
Cut yo wack game, you ain't saying nuttin'
And like broken sprinklers, you ain't spraying nuttin'
So I'mma make it blaze from the North to the South
And make every groupie love me with her jaw in her mouth