Call me Kip Kinkel, my flow is murdering fools
When I go off like white buls in suburban schools
Splurging's cool, I done blown mad cash and then some
As long as my expenditures don't exceed my income
I'm like Bruce Willis I'm Unbreakable when rappin
Your style is as fragile as Samuel L. Jackson
Side wild as retarded kids in the shower
So funky if I farted you would smell it for an hour
I'm straight reppin Philly where we always spit the raw
Where we always start off saying our name with da bul
This da bul Side Effect yo you know how I roll
If you ain't spittin skills then shut your pie hole
I don't wanna hear it whatever you're manifesting
The rap you do I don't find at all interesting
The way I crash wack MC's you know it's me man
I give a new meaning to the term poetry slam
We can disagree without being violently disagreeable
I disagree with that, and smack you with these unbelievable
Skills, breeding cattle when I raise the stakes
In a battle you would swear I was raised by apes
Crazy, Side Effect the Napalm Bomb of rap
You're content being wack I have no qualms with that
Keep doing what you're doing, wack shit I'll file it under
While I rhyme with that broke nigga first album hunger
I'm calling Golden Era Kids, Golden Era Kids where y'all at
Golden Era Kids, holla back if y'all feelin that
87, 88 and 89
Back when Hip Hop was at its most creative time
I'm calling Golden Era Kids, Golden Era Kids where y'all at
Golden Era Kids, holla back if y'all feelin that
87, 88 and 89
Back when Hip Hop was at its most creative time
Let me show you how to rhyme way above the average bul
How to spit the raw and have cats in absolute awe
Show you how to intimidate your foes with no apology
Rivaling the latest in government technology
Spitting flames a thousand frames per millisecond
So ill when I spill niggas tell me chill a second
I can see it in your eyes you're surprised by my dirtiness
I listen to you guys then I analyze your worthiness
I say shit you don't have the heart to
Side Effect, banned from CD part two
Punchlines hit you harder than a stray shot
Your twin brother will feel the pain like Tomax and Xamot
Your Gi Joe looks GI gay
I'm still ill when I spill that shit from back in the day
Back when Kane's dancers was Scrap and Scoob Lover
Or back when Rerun was bootlegging the Doobie Brothers
I was out the gate, you're off to a slow start
Side Effect I don't write rhymes I write flow charts
Connecting my thoughts like some kind of dope philosopher
Spit shit so hot that I need a throat lozenger
I'm calling Golden Era Kids, Golden Era Kids where y'all at
Golden Era Kids, holla back if y'all feelin that
87, 88 and 89
Back when Hip Hop was at its most creative time
I'm calling Golden Era Kids, Golden Era Kids where y'all at
Golden Era Kids, holla back if y'all feelin that
87, 88 and 89
Back when Hip Hop was at its most creative time
Yo, I come in the crib, eat, write some heat, make a beat
Call a girl, f*ck, skeet, then I'm rolling through the street
Lyrically unique, never peak, constant elevation
Writing rhymes is like real estate it's all about location
Where you put your words, most of you rappers be
Saying anything while I bring gorgeous tapestry
Attacking me is dumb I wonder how you pass your classes
Over a million sperm and you were the fastest
Lyrically you try to size me up but can't measure me
I'm always rearranging while exchanging unpleasantries
Rhyme writing for me is a habitual ritual
Lines are designed specifically to make you feel pitiful
I know my shit is hot God I got this shit mastered
When I die I'll have conceited bastard plastered across my casket
With a tombstone in the shape of a microphone
Black owned, beats I make my own, lyrics write my own
In a zone, my poems, full of boasting and braggering
Battle me but warning casualties could be staggering
Don't romp with me in the MC section
Cause my flows so tight you might get a yeast infection
I'm calling Golden Era Kids, Golden Era Kids where y'all at
Golden Era Kids, holla back if y'all feelin that
87, 88 and 89
Back when Hip Hop was at its most creative time
I'm calling Golden Era Kids, Golden Era Kids where y'all at
Golden Era Kids, holla back if y'all feelin that
87, 88 and 89
Back when Hip Hop was at its most creative time
Terrence Wood - Golden Era Kids Lyrics
Terrence Wood - Golden Era Kids Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Call me Kip Kinkel, my flow is murdering fools
When I go off like white buls in suburban schools
Splurging's cool, I done blown mad cash and then some
As long as my expenditures don't exceed my income
I'm like Bruce Willis I'm Unbreakable when rappin
Your style is as fragile as Samuel L. Jackson
Side wild as retarded kids in the shower
So funky if I farted you would smell it for an hour
I'm straight reppin Philly where we always spit the raw
Where we always start off saying our name with da bul
This da bul Side Effect yo you know how I roll
If you ain't spittin skills then shut your pie hole
I don't wanna hear it whatever you're manifesting
The rap you do I don't find at all interesting
The way I crash wack MC's you know it's me man
I give a new meaning to the term poetry slam
We can disagree without being violently disagreeable
I disagree with that, and smack you with these unbelievable
Skills, breeding cattle when I raise the stakes
In a battle you would swear I was raised by apes
Crazy, Side Effect the Napalm Bomb of rap
You're content being wack I have no qualms with that
Keep doing what you're doing, wack shit I'll file it under
While I rhyme with that broke nigga first album hunger
I'm calling Golden Era Kids, Golden Era Kids where y'all at
Golden Era Kids, holla back if y'all feelin that
87, 88 and 89
Back when Hip Hop was at its most creative time
I'm calling Golden Era Kids, Golden Era Kids where y'all at
Golden Era Kids, holla back if y'all feelin that
87, 88 and 89
Back when Hip Hop was at its most creative time
Let me show you how to rhyme way above the average bul
How to spit the raw and have cats in absolute awe
Show you how to intimidate your foes with no apology
Rivaling the latest in government technology
Spitting flames a thousand frames per millisecond
So ill when I spill niggas tell me chill a second
I can see it in your eyes you're surprised by my dirtiness
I listen to you guys then I analyze your worthiness
I say shit you don't have the heart to
Side Effect, banned from CD part two
Punchlines hit you harder than a stray shot
Your twin brother will feel the pain like Tomax and Xamot
Your Gi Joe looks GI gay
I'm still ill when I spill that shit from back in the day
Back when Kane's dancers was Scrap and Scoob Lover
Or back when Rerun was bootlegging the Doobie Brothers
I was out the gate, you're off to a slow start
Side Effect I don't write rhymes I write flow charts
Connecting my thoughts like some kind of dope philosopher
Spit shit so hot that I need a throat lozenger
I'm calling Golden Era Kids, Golden Era Kids where y'all at
Golden Era Kids, holla back if y'all feelin that
87, 88 and 89
Back when Hip Hop was at its most creative time
I'm calling Golden Era Kids, Golden Era Kids where y'all at
Golden Era Kids, holla back if y'all feelin that
87, 88 and 89
Back when Hip Hop was at its most creative time
Yo, I come in the crib, eat, write some heat, make a beat
Call a girl, f*ck, skeet, then I'm rolling through the street
Lyrically unique, never peak, constant elevation
Writing rhymes is like real estate it's all about location
Where you put your words, most of you rappers be
Saying anything while I bring gorgeous tapestry
Attacking me is dumb I wonder how you pass your classes
Over a million sperm and you were the fastest
Lyrically you try to size me up but can't measure me
I'm always rearranging while exchanging unpleasantries
Rhyme writing for me is a habitual ritual
Lines are designed specifically to make you feel pitiful
I know my shit is hot God I got this shit mastered
When I die I'll have conceited bastard plastered across my casket
With a tombstone in the shape of a microphone
Black owned, beats I make my own, lyrics write my own
In a zone, my poems, full of boasting and braggering
Battle me but warning casualties could be staggering
Don't romp with me in the MC section
Cause my flows so tight you might get a yeast infection
I'm calling Golden Era Kids, Golden Era Kids where y'all at
Golden Era Kids, holla back if y'all feelin that
87, 88 and 89
Back when Hip Hop was at its most creative time
I'm calling Golden Era Kids, Golden Era Kids where y'all at
Golden Era Kids, holla back if y'all feelin that
87, 88 and 89
Back when Hip Hop was at its most creative time
When I go off like white buls in suburban schools
Splurging's cool, I done blown mad cash and then some
As long as my expenditures don't exceed my income
I'm like Bruce Willis I'm Unbreakable when rappin
Your style is as fragile as Samuel L. Jackson
Side wild as retarded kids in the shower
So funky if I farted you would smell it for an hour
I'm straight reppin Philly where we always spit the raw
Where we always start off saying our name with da bul
This da bul Side Effect yo you know how I roll
If you ain't spittin skills then shut your pie hole
I don't wanna hear it whatever you're manifesting
The rap you do I don't find at all interesting
The way I crash wack MC's you know it's me man
I give a new meaning to the term poetry slam
We can disagree without being violently disagreeable
I disagree with that, and smack you with these unbelievable
Skills, breeding cattle when I raise the stakes
In a battle you would swear I was raised by apes
Crazy, Side Effect the Napalm Bomb of rap
You're content being wack I have no qualms with that
Keep doing what you're doing, wack shit I'll file it under
While I rhyme with that broke nigga first album hunger
I'm calling Golden Era Kids, Golden Era Kids where y'all at
Golden Era Kids, holla back if y'all feelin that
87, 88 and 89
Back when Hip Hop was at its most creative time
I'm calling Golden Era Kids, Golden Era Kids where y'all at
Golden Era Kids, holla back if y'all feelin that
87, 88 and 89
Back when Hip Hop was at its most creative time
Let me show you how to rhyme way above the average bul
How to spit the raw and have cats in absolute awe
Show you how to intimidate your foes with no apology
Rivaling the latest in government technology
Spitting flames a thousand frames per millisecond
So ill when I spill niggas tell me chill a second
I can see it in your eyes you're surprised by my dirtiness
I listen to you guys then I analyze your worthiness
I say shit you don't have the heart to
Side Effect, banned from CD part two
Punchlines hit you harder than a stray shot
Your twin brother will feel the pain like Tomax and Xamot
Your Gi Joe looks GI gay
I'm still ill when I spill that shit from back in the day
Back when Kane's dancers was Scrap and Scoob Lover
Or back when Rerun was bootlegging the Doobie Brothers
I was out the gate, you're off to a slow start
Side Effect I don't write rhymes I write flow charts
Connecting my thoughts like some kind of dope philosopher
Spit shit so hot that I need a throat lozenger
I'm calling Golden Era Kids, Golden Era Kids where y'all at
Golden Era Kids, holla back if y'all feelin that
87, 88 and 89
Back when Hip Hop was at its most creative time
I'm calling Golden Era Kids, Golden Era Kids where y'all at
Golden Era Kids, holla back if y'all feelin that
87, 88 and 89
Back when Hip Hop was at its most creative time
Yo, I come in the crib, eat, write some heat, make a beat
Call a girl, f*ck, skeet, then I'm rolling through the street
Lyrically unique, never peak, constant elevation
Writing rhymes is like real estate it's all about location
Where you put your words, most of you rappers be
Saying anything while I bring gorgeous tapestry
Attacking me is dumb I wonder how you pass your classes
Over a million sperm and you were the fastest
Lyrically you try to size me up but can't measure me
I'm always rearranging while exchanging unpleasantries
Rhyme writing for me is a habitual ritual
Lines are designed specifically to make you feel pitiful
I know my shit is hot God I got this shit mastered
When I die I'll have conceited bastard plastered across my casket
With a tombstone in the shape of a microphone
Black owned, beats I make my own, lyrics write my own
In a zone, my poems, full of boasting and braggering
Battle me but warning casualties could be staggering
Don't romp with me in the MC section
Cause my flows so tight you might get a yeast infection
I'm calling Golden Era Kids, Golden Era Kids where y'all at
Golden Era Kids, holla back if y'all feelin that
87, 88 and 89
Back when Hip Hop was at its most creative time
I'm calling Golden Era Kids, Golden Era Kids where y'all at
Golden Era Kids, holla back if y'all feelin that
87, 88 and 89
Back when Hip Hop was at its most creative time
Writer: TERRENCE WOOD
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Songtrust Ave
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Songtrust Ave