Lyrics Main Aim - Chino XL, Tony Atlas, Cella Dwellas

Main Aim

I stay takin flicks with chicks, spendin G’s on whiz and kicks
While those hip hop ticks, stay on my dick
MC’s is all ill like bags from Bonton
Stay souped up just like won-ton
All I got it hard times, the illest rhymes
A couple of dimes and a rusty nine that ain’t even mine
Thousand dollar links on, gotta get my drink on
But ain’t ever put a mink on
I still get nice and shoot dice, still eat pork fried rice
Still shoot threes like Mark Price
Second time around, still gettin down for my crown
Give you that hip hop sound
Yo, my rugged raps, dip on tracks
Like Japs in straw hats in Saigon
Through trees other icon, squeeze like py-thons
You don’t know who you be facin
The gat I bust will split your ass up like segregation
Or federation, come together like United Nations
To bring oblieteration, 1−51 is what I’m tastin
No hesitation when I come through
Avoid shit cassette tapes when I scream like Clue (echo)
U-G, keep niggas guessin, break bones like teckin
While niggas fake moves like wrestlin
No question, I bring it every time baby
Don’t try to play me, I Roc-a-Fella like Jay-Z
«Maintain, few remain in the game
So, I remain focus and pop’s the main aim»
--] K-Solo from Redman’s «It's Like That»
Verse Two: Phantasm, Ug
I never did a soundtrack, but my sounds is phat
You think that’s gonna hold me back from gettin mines in rap
Y’all niggas step to the rear, cause the Dwellas is here
Disappeared for a year, now the smoke is clear
Debut 23 on the charts and Billboard
Even headliners got flawed when we toured
Because all my releases are lyrical masterpieces
Through the knowledge baby, science that, check my thesis
I can’t stand the rain or the pain
To see these wack niggas game, aiyyo I’m tryin to maintain
I don’t even rhyme no more I explain
Rules of the game, simple and plain
This rap industry, ain’t shit to me
The million dollar man just need currency
So I can get this estate and live great
Finally a home of my own as king of my throne
We’ll roast ya, focus like Manolta, hold gats like a holsta
That’ll rip through shirts like the Hulksta
Dance on tracks like John Travolta, Saturday Day Night Fe-Ver
Put niggas to sleep like e-ther, usin the sleeper, hold
My flow be ill
Make room rides beats like Masingil, check it
I wanna sell like Hootie and the Blowfish
My goatie, got shorties sayin I look like Will Smith
With cuter lips, huh, my clip slip slugs to toaster
Hit your leg and have ya limpin like Keyser Soze
Chicks, honeydips, whips whip plus ya poster
Re-appose me ya get crushed
I cut flows like tight hand cuffs, nigga WHAT