Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Live From The D.J. Stretch Armstrong Show, artist - D.J. Stretch Armstrong
Date of issue: 31.12.2001
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Live From The D.J. Stretch Armstrong Show |
Yes i, check it out |
It’s like, you listen to the musician |
Umbilicle mic, my syllable strikes ya vision |
I take you through a tunnel of thought, wit no support |
Now you got caught off guard, by the number one scar for the illa-fifth |
Lyrically for feelin this, black thought yo the skill assisted |
By the mal-ik b, the symbol you remember me to be type valid |
Disasterous, the master just bust this, for the listener |
Black thought yo, while i exhibit the |
Styles, from the artist, boast strokes of lyrical darkness, enter the style |
Severin rooms just like apartments, ill flavor |
I’m a skyscraper by nature |
Down wit my number one neighbor, common |
>from the city of illinois, you destroy when we bombin, what? |
Off the top-a, the dome lyric-al don-datta mr. |
trotter |
Aiyyo we gotta lotta mc’s, on the line of this ready to rhyme |
So i’m just gon’set go down wit mine, rewind, check it out |
I persue sound fairs, relaxed like dru down’s hair |
Other niggas rhymes are like gang signs, i throw down theirs |
On knotts i landed, players get played like hamlet |
Supposedly nice, taken for granted like life |
I write twice and drop singles in record pools |
Niggas i’m dunkin like when cops mingle, fuck hip hop jingles |
Rhymin big words and not sayin shit |
The click that you came in wit, the accent you flavor whipped |
I got my nigga tariq, i freak it in the middle of the week |
Niggas is weak an’and i start to speakin |
Niggas start to leakin, my nigga derek d an' |
I’m foreseein the future, funky for human beings |
Like i was the biz mark, i bring the noise iller |
Com sense’ll be the rhyme killer, i spill a Little bit of juice to a mc who need a new producer |
Got my nigga y-not in the spot and i rock like crack |
I’m ready to attack, thoughts is black |
Niggas understand the intelligence and relevance to this rhyme |
I stretch a nigga all across the line like i was bobbito or armstrong |
Com’s song’ll keep goin, i start the holdin |
My flowin is turnin to earth |
The birth is comin through, listenin to cut old school *laughin* |
?tremblin when it came down the shoot? |
(pharoahe) yeah yeah (pharoahe) yeah yeah |
(pharoahe) yeah yeah yo Always beginnin em, forever blendin them, bendin em again and again |
Sendin em back, lettin em know that minimum wages |
Subliminally befriending em for criminal ac-tivity |
Mics i chop like florida state seminoles wit criminal facts |
And milly ac-tually i piss on your promotional wax |
It’ll be tight but only this, what nigga swears he’s the nicest |
Just because he got rhyme of the month twice |
Four mic devices, the gem star blade the shit slices |
Rip-trip-chop-chop-chop and dices, absolute |
Absolute uh, absolute uh, absolute uh (kill it) |
Yes, rippin the microphone |
My words will enlight your dome |
When i’m quick to strike your home just like capone |
N-noreaga, wit the war report, my orrator will slaughter yours |
Still waitin for the beat to come in, i’m dangerous like satan |
Eatin bacon in front of a muslim, i’ll battle you and your cousin |
It’s the beef for black attack |
When i, yes quick to subtract the wack |
When i go from track to track, bouncin in the mounds and coutin |
Flowin like water from a fountain when i deliver |
Like water from a river makin you shiver |
That’s for sore, the connoisseur rippin ill-literature |
Yes, but i’m about to get deeper |
You’ll catch a ill reflection from listenin too close to the speaker |
When i reach ya, it’s gettin more clearer, outta the era |
It’s like this, we keep you open like a parachute |
Took a shot of hip hop, it’s absolute |
For my man from the house of representatives |
And turn it out, aiyyo i always do, that’s what i’ma bout ta Do i show you a style and throw you? |
For all competitors, black thought comin through the seckle cuz |
I’m the superior style and you inferior |
Let me adjust my voice so you can hear me ta-- |
Bust rule the, microphone |
Pure skills, nuttin but it, all of a sudden |
Mc’s just start to studdered from the rap style |
Hey yo let me rewind check it out, check it out |
Well it’s the, deranged style that change formats and forms |
I swarm like killa bees for feelin these fantasies |
Mc’s throw a tantrum, i sing the fifth anthem |
Aiyyo it’s like this, my song thump your preference |
You can never attempt to reach that where my level is Black thought severin competitives, off the dome top |
Yo my microphone stop, my man com just drop |
And don’t halt, i guess it was my fault |
I came through thick like a malt, niggas tried to pour salt |
But never knew the flavor, my shit is accented from chicago |
Niggas follow, hold the water bottle |
My shit’ll keep flowin |
Now i’m showin this poetry in motion like a picure |
Read the scripture, understood the first new testament |
Start to blessin it The shit is like this, where the beat went |
I give mc’s the silent treatment |
They tried to come against me, i told em they wasn’t fresh |
Rappers i crush, kill and destroy like stress |
Extinction agenda, com sense’ll just send a-nother |
Mothafucker to the bathroom, he didn’t have room to shit on the mic |
That i had, it’s like the nigga com sense, i don’t need a pad |
Off the dome, my shit’ll roam/rome like a greek |
I start to speak, and niggas sound extra weak/week |
Like seven days, i take ya seven whole days like tony |
Never been a phony, express styles like a pony |
Hold ya horses, com sense read the sources |
Toss this type of shit that go straight through, i lost this |
One time, it came back the rap sunshine |
Niggas follow me like one time |
Check it out nig-- my man absolute is unsigned, ready to get it on It’s like this upon the mic yo i sit upon |
Yo yo, check it out now, one time now, pharoahe monch yo It’s not breaks at the bar, even if you a star |
Wit me and my crew baby doll you won’t go far |
I seek the love of allah, the laws i lay |
Peepin the upper echelon of light display |
Funk distributed rap pro, attributed to facts so Cleverly put, more revolutions than a axel |
The sad slow nigga much smoother than coltrane |
Who can cop beats that i chop like cocaine |
The effortless action wit moves like subtraction |
Lip, stick and admit wit mo’satisfaction |
And all the while my beats can pile up More data than x-file shows all added up The educated nigga from queens, by any means |
Servin any fiends, similar to supreme team |
But like steam i will rise to the top to redeem the cream |
For niggas who fiend for hip hop |
I pop glock and bla-block shot and chop spots |
>from top notch cops to bust from a crotch |
Positioning, what absolute, what c’mon c’mon kick the dome |
The last word was precision so i get a vision |
And makin sentences on top of your cranium |
Underground, sub-terranien |
Crossin the mediterranean, water to slaughter mc’s |
Who can’t catch across the border |
Lookin across, the window, not a nympho |
Lookin at my man, the jedi duck when the lead fly |
My man just took a picture, so i just snapped it Lookin at the man who got the joint in his back shit, the back shit |
I pack shit but it’s never like an automatic |
I’m causin static just like the opposite of bounce |
I get, throwing mad amounts |
Look at my man bobbito and stretch |
I gotta catch the beat |
I’m never come off weak cuz weak is the opposite of strong |
I used to smoke the bong but now i got the heineken |
It’s my turn to rhyme again |
Don’t need to be greedy, i give my old gear to the needy |
Used to write graffiti cuz i got the burner |
You might not get that but you i pass it back to my man wit the head wrap |
Yo |