| Yo!
|
| Get the fuck off my dick and let me rip this shit!
|
| I write raps,
|
| And when niggaz bite, I clap,
|
| 'Cos their shit sounds better now.
|
| You done let me down,
|
| I thought it would be dope, but instead,
|
| Your shit’s dead,
|
| You gets fed
|
| To the alligators lurking in the moat,
|
| Peep what I wrote,
|
| You bit so hard, I though your shit was a quote.
|
| But still I’m taxing, axing the competition,
|
| And any wack men, I stomp &dis 'em
|
| Easily.
|
| And you can feel the pressure, plus
|
| When I bust MCs’ll be Tr&ling eachother trying to exit,
|
| When I flex it,
|
| The way I wreck shit is not unexpected.
|
| Niggaz just lose when I choose
|
| The best crews of MCs,
|
| And turn 'em into refugees.
|
| I slaughter a lotta MCs that are the
|
| ?Styles I compiles?, and cut 'em up like? |
| vows?.
|
| Think to yourself I write the shit
|
| So you can bite the shit,
|
| And I’ll know, despite you get props.
|
| Niggaz get dropped.
|
| S&le: That’s how it was and that’s how it is!
|
| Enough with this wackness,
|
| Enough is my? |
| check?,
|
| Enough with these motherfuckers biting DAS EFX.
|
| I come real when I show skill,
|
| (Hey, yo, Saafir!) You macked on that ho ill,
|
| And that’s for real, my flow still
|
| Is everlasting, niggaz forever blasting
|
| Shots when cash gets hot.
|
| You’re not fresh, so you hating when I be just
|
| Ripping microphones without stating the obvious.
|
| Now how much harder can it get?
|
| Niggaz try to flow, but they soundin’like me A year ago.
|
| Shit, old, kaput, I got loot,
|
| To the hos I’m cute, and so I always got boots.
|
| It’s me, so be free to feel the? |
| Ivy swing?,
|
| More niggaz got my back than Rodney King.
|
| I feel tight, knowing that the shit I write
|
| Will be exposed to foes, and everyone will feel fright.
|
| And you’ll run and tell your man, Yo, peep this twist,
|
| It’s real, try to practise. |
| But the mack is Way ahead of ya, instead of ya wack sound,
|
| I’m kickin’shit to make MCs back down.
|
| Got rhymes that kills, fills many empty heads,
|
| Niggaz can be dead, I got 'em in line, like? |
| Stimpy?.
|
| Red light, slow that shit down, bring it to a halt.
|
| You’re wack and it’s all your fault. |