Fort Minor

"Tools of the Trade"

TOOLS OF THE TRADE Lyrics by Fort Minor
I can make a loop out of anything work
I'm just surprised you guys didn't think of this s*** first... But f*** it!
You can't touch yours truly
You can hardly follow me
Much less move me, so
When I'm pumping the track
You punks in the back better jump when I ask you b******s
Yeah, you got it backwards and misconstrued
See I roll like the rat pack groups included
In the backpack with the gas mask in Munich
20 deep in a hatchback puffing Cubans

You wanna rap get the lab track qued let's do this
But not on this track
You can't afford it stupid!

Somebody call for the doc quick
He's still on the street top
He gotta freaking stain on my high top Reebok's
s*****ed off the velcro and choked him with it
My headphones rub my neck where I coach you chickens (baaaacock!)
Machineshop packs lots of tunes
Like Paul Wall mixed tapes leave you chopped and screwed
The mess too wild?
The yes boys popping their Gats (yaps?)
Yeah, can you hear me now?
Good get off my sac

Yo, MC am I
People call me Celph
I got the key to every young b****** chastity belt
You clicking even p****
Better yet they beaver
I'm gonna leave it to ya heavy
With this nine millameta
[Girlie Ryu: some would say s**y voice]
Yo I see you chillin' in that cherry beemer
Have you ever met a man with canary fever?
I ain't talkin' 'bout a p*** colored diamond either, word
I'm eatin' birds outta sittin' on your finger
You can teach 'em how to speak
Say "Polly want a cracker? "
Take 'em to the beach
Play volleyball after
A little snack... champagne and pasta...
We don't gotta run fast girl
I know you got asthma

Yeah, sippin' on jack and diamonds
Blowing smoke rings
Chillin' with the pack of Heina's
Your hands to the sky
Get a crunk for fun
I'm so g****** high
I could punch the sun

[British Mike:]
Oy... honestly I doesn't even matter if I use this voice
It'd still f*** up you and your boys
So p*** off mate
See? I do what I want
Cause your whole b***** lots
Just a bunch of c****
See right now Celph t**led supposed to be in the booth

But he's stuck inside a toilet getting ready to puke

And he drank a bunch of sisco, vodka, and rum

So Cheapshot's gonna drop Celph's verse
Here it comes

[Celph t**led:]
Find me in the sandwich
Gonna roll with the stutter
Rolling with a cutter
Abuse your mother
On a road trip to Barbados with their hoes
I'm a hoodrat with a Winnebago
I make dough
On the block where the bullies where raised to partier
You in Idaho grazing pastures getting busy
I don't hold acts unless for something get busy
On the ground I like the bear
And I stay my grizzly

[Ryu: in the background]
Stay the f*** in the bathroom homie!
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