I am more wrong than 1+1u003d3
Records by Milli Vanilli or Sylvie Melodie
Are you wondering who? Well, you'll get to know me
I can't be slowed down or tamed, so you'll have to get used to me
To my presence, so I've come to stay
And just like Hitler, you have It will take years to drive me out
I will set your brain on fire with napalm from Vietnam
And ritually slaughter you like sheep during Ramadam
What did you have then? What are you trying to prove?
Try it again, I'll prepare you grandma's way
With a verbal sauce to die for
Open your mouth, swallow and eat, I let yourself put on ten kilos
Mmm tasty, I come here far from business
But entertaining and mainly necessary
Pernicious, my error is immortal
Check my family tree, it's simply hereditary< br/>Alo? Wow! My name is Quinte
I'm the baddest motherfucker you'll find in the whole scene
I kick shit to the next level just like Mario Bros
I only really get loose when I hit rhymes floss my teeth
Let yourself float in my cosmos, just like an astronaut
And give your brain contents that major maintenance
Discover your factory defect and send you back to Ikea
This text is carcinogenic, even if you use liters of Nivea
Sun cream, I am your rain after the sunshine
Pump chorus after chorus into your subconscious
It's a well-kept secret that I'm the worst bastard am
And am strong like Heman, but with a fountain pen
And listen to my voice that replaces your conscience
Makes you heavily possessed and your personality split
You had better need to know, I have the real shit in stock
This is too sharp for your ears even if your name is Mr.Spock
I put dissers in the wok with soy beans and leek
The ideal recipe for the bad assholery
I do wanton, violent and merciless damage
With a criminal brain that works incorrectly and excessively
Just Hannibal the Cannibal Lector arrived in your sector
Be responsible for your own imagination, I am a built-in lie detector
Have had way too much kif buckle lift and am now seriously crazy
Breed crazy MCs with an unnatural sex drive
Then give them a facelift that will fail badly
I mutilate so that kilos of make-up can no longer adorn them
And all without leaving fingerprints behind
The straitjackets were gone, so they released me again
They let me talk, not flat but sparkling
My tracks will last at least until the year two thousand
Eighty-six, powerful and mighty
This bad bad bastard kicks it beautifully

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