I always feel slightly guilty whenever Tonedeff’s “Pervert” comes on in my headphones while I’m on the train. I dig the song, but it’s kinda hard really enjoying it without feeling like a Chris Hansen court case on the F line. Anyways ‘Deff, being an MMA fan, crafted this cut for UFC fighter Chris Camozzi’s walkout/entrance theme music at the upcoming UFC 127 in Australia after finding out that Camozzi was a fan of his music as well. I wonder how Camozzi feels when “Pervert” drops while he’s training.
Lyrics to go down bottom.
DOWNLOAD: Tonedeff – Bang | BandCamp
We ain’t playin tonight…QN5 Ain’t playing tonight/
We ain’t playin tonight…QN5 Ain’t playing tonight/
We ain’t playin tonight…Tonedeff, He ain’t playing tonight/
We ain’t playin tonight…QN5 Ain’t playing tonight/Hook:
Bang! You know we come to Bang!
You throwin nothing! Bang!
Right on the button! Bang!
Good night, bitch. Bang!
You know we come to Bang!
We own you fuckers! Bang!
So don’t be frontin…Hey!
Y’all ain’t built to Bang!Verse 1
Yo! I’m armed with gifts that hit like a dodge, Bombing like I’m on a mission from god,
When you dip from the shot, then you’re tripped and get dropped/
With an omaplata grippin that arm with a viscious resolve,
Twistin it off to leave as a tip at the palms/
It’s unanimous, I consider decisions a loss,
Cause son, I’m a closer, coming to finish the job/
Snakey slick talkers get unhinged at the jaw
Brother, you’d think they’re confessing sins to the father the way that they kissin this cross/
Lift you off-a ya feet, like you sit in a saw rigged with ball
at the opposite end fit to rip through a wall – Demolition-grade!
Splitting the top of your noggin, till you spin and then topple
and then you out cold like getting a dip in the pond while up in the Michigan frost
Sleeping like you was whiffin exhaust
Off of the choruses and the underhooks that’s keepin you pinned to the song
Ditched by your sponsors, a pink slip from the boss/
Herb Dean will have to administer salts just to get you to talk
You can’t.Hook
Verse: 2
I’m switching my stances….So swift with the stanzas,
Got you dancing with stars, but no disco or actors/
Son, this is just practice, You the dude with the wife
and 50 kids, cause apparently you only pull out of fights,
Don’t be fooled by the hype, When the truth is I’m actually nastier like
Cecil Peoples saying the kicks don’t count, but I hit to the rhythm and got em tappin to strikes/
I’m a natural athlete, fight to the death if the ref was in absence/
So at the request of the champion I’m bringing a medic and testing olympian levels on the rest of your matches
I’m pressing the action – If you layin’ and prayin’ and doin dick from the top
Then confess to your passion – you the type to opt-in for a prison massage/
The difference is obvious, kid when I hit you there’s ominous music that lifts from the audience
You quite the opposite, it’s like you flick me with nickels your strikes are as stiff as a dollar…wet/
This is dominance in the broadest sense – I got a sound defense for staying off the fence/
I grip around your neck, until your eyes get bugged out…and I’ma choke you the fuck out/
And when the ‘showtime’ kicks in I’ll bury you, digging in a post-fight interview with Ariel/
Your girl knows what she wants/
She said she LOVES to stand & bang – but never threw a punch/Hook.
