| I go by the name of DJ Young Mase
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| Good 2 be back, but this time
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| I brought 14 friends
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| Matter fact, 14 Emcees!
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| Fat Father dunn showed up
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| And a couple boxes of doughnuts
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| No time for stunts, I’m one militant grownup
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| Crunk, willing to hold up chumps
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| To get exposed. |
| Fat Michigan soldier
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| Cats hit you in the?
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| Trapped in this ridiculous culture: fuck Oprah!
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| No hope, my brain is broke, I’m bipolar
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| You microwave shit? |
| I pop trunks with the toaster (3Six)
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| Beef with ya beef, Guarantee the whole crew will ride
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| And we make the homicide look like suicide
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| So nigga, you decide!
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| Either you run with the squad
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| Or you can keep playing God and get crucified
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| Use the 9, I don’t ride when it’s Valentine
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| Send you to the angels like you been traded to Anaheim
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| Bring the caskets out whenever I’m spazzing out
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| Fire in the woods somewhere, like? |
| house
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| Bodybag em, toe-tag em
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| Lyrically, I beat these beats up like a Magnum (Get 'Em)
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| You getting fucked tonight, you better grab something
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| Fuck boy, I can hire you to go bag something
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| My money long, I don’t even need a bank account
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| Big bank take little bank, what your bank about?
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| Mine read whole numbers plus six zeroes
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| I be turning 16s into a pocket full of Euros
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| (Kid Vishis)
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| Yeah, Kid Vishis the Prince
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| Sickest in Michigan since
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| I’ve been spittin', rippin' niggas is a tradition
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| I spaz, I can box, but I ain’t jabbin'
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| Imma pop his light bulb like a good thought gone bad
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| Give her the hit stick like Madden
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| Fly as Aladdin, higher than Saturn with stilts
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| Every time I hit your white bitch twat, it’s a gift
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| Call that shit my Cracker Jack box
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| Shim Bango, F.K., the boy is me
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| My goal is to be as high as Charlie Sheen
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| Its hard to take MCs seriously on screen
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| When they prancin' dancin' harder than Ben Vereen
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| Ill skills, I spill fo’real, one shot put him in the chair like chill
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| I’m in the sky rollin’up cuz he be like «blill», I know your momma won’t but
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| yo' man would
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| Become a drug mover and a rider, big wheel blata
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| Beef like Kobe I’m the shooter
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| Shoot ‘till you see straight through your garage
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| Then slide off feelin' like Hakuna Matata
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| I don’t hide lady drama, stick her with 7 pounds 6 ounces like baby mama
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| .380 Llama, yeah I even got one wit me cuz I ain’t tryna let ‘em do me like
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| they young beef
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| I’m blowin' ganja smoke,
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| packin' all kinds of toast
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| That’ll make you change your lifestyle like the condom broke
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| Give her the work, I’m on the turf move slabs often
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| I’ll push your shit back like a bad barber
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| I lines ‘em up well, aim sharp Steve Harvey
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| I’m Cheech and Chong blowin' hong like three Marley I know they hate me
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| I ain’t in low definition so I’mma be the first one to do murders in HD
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| Damn! |
| There you have it 14 Emcees
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| You know what time it is, Pay Attention!
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| We Back muthafuckers! |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song 14 Emcees , by - Bizarre. Song from the album DJ Smokey Gray Presents Compilation Album Volume 10, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп