Rap Game Travolta - K21, Mac Lethal

Just call me K, let me talk me smack

Handle minds, I do it all like that

Let loose on a troop till he falls right back

The one man army kicking war time rap

Just Pulp Fiction, not a story track

Till the truth is here and they’re taught the math

But before all that I’m sure you’ll add it up

By the time Faint One’s gonna scratch the cut

The promoters said, «Next track, you’re up»

«Who, me?

Nah, where’s your head at?

I’m not playin' till I get a bowl of green M&M's

And Headlock and Kirk bring the Premium Blend back»

Another rugrat who leaped from the pen

Crawled to the club, now I’m gonna leave with a ten pack

Dead that, I’ma leave to invent tracks

That’ll make your head crack with no lead bat

Putt fire in the sky, call me Deodato

With a baby-face, it ain’t Leonardo, but

Everything I utter on a beats staccato

With an appetite that’ll eat your half-notes

Make iller-noise, never seen Chicago

Moon cans I’m rocking fresh off the crater

So your special move won’t ever do a thing

When I react and I’m coming with a combo breaker

Now say goodnight

Save the encore and fade the lights

Terminate every name on sight

When the day goes night I’ma make it right

Do it even if doesn’t make a right

Although still i ain’t lying dormant

And I ain’t living by the book

'Cause I’d rather be living it like an author,

MIA WALLACE: So, did you think of something to say?

VINCENT VEGA: Actually, I did.

However, you seem like a really nice person—I

don’t want to offend you

WALLACE: Ooh!

This doesn’t sound like the usual mindless, boring,

getting-to-know-you chit-chat.

This sounds like you have something to say

VEGA: Well, well, I do… I do.

But, you have to promise not to be offended

Solemnly sold my soul

Ain’t something that you’d fix with solder

Live that Martian life, that’s why every year

I manage to get colder

And for every other rapper that’ll talk that smack

Like, «Man, his style is old»

I made a peace sign, turned it round for

Then started dancing like Travolta

D—D—Dancing like Travolta

But, but I take to the heart like Uma

Went on tour with the Hoods twenty shows

And I roll around with the same nasty Pumas

Still, half cyborg, half producer

With no heart to lose, that would be hard to do

So if I ain’t the number one I’m on the path to soon

'Cause I’m assuming the position like Kama Sutra

And I ain’t slowing, how?

I just go all out

And never know the round or throw the towel

You’re over now whenever I roam the town

I’ma make 'em all scream like Rose Mcgowan

That Conan sound I only wrote to pound

So profound, from the coast I’m bound to be the dopest found

And to the centre too I’m unforgettable

To every fool up on a pedestal I’ll throw them down

Oh, what’s now?

Straight in the door, coming through, run it with the misfits

And all these other motherfuckers wanna hate

And get all mad at me because they think I stuck it in their missus?

Here’s a funnel you can piss in

And wear my shoes if you really think you’re running in my distance

Try and gun it like a piston

I wish you all the best, can a motherfucker get a witness?

JULES WINNFIELD: And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and

furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers.

And you will know my name is the Lord…

WINNFIELD: Say 'what' again.

Say 'what' again, I dare you, I double dare you

motherfucker, say what one more goddamn time!

WINNFIELD: Oh, you ready to blow?

VINCENT VEGA: Yeah, I’m ready to blow

WINNFIELD: Well I’m a mushroom cloud layin' motherfucker, motherfucker.

Every time my fingers touch brain, I’m «Superfly TNT»