Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Microphone Master, artist - Das EFX. Album song The Very Best Of Das EFX, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 25.06.2007
Record label: Elektra, Rhino
Song language: English
Microphone Master |
| Miggity microphone master, funky rhyme maker |
| Miggity microphone master, and we the niggas making paper |
| Miggity microphone master, yeah about to get live |
| Striggity straight from the sewer and the 41st side |
| Verse One: Prodigy |
| The Infamous Mobb and Das now listen |
| Stick you for the only pot you got to piss in |
| Rapping school, keep the key in the ignition |
| When we get back nigga, we shine and glisten |
| Your seven do his thing with percision |
| No time for broke living, I’m trying to see addition |
| Food to fill my kitchen |
| So faggot kids snitch and give info, do a drive by in a stolen black Pinto |
| With tinted windows, bullets will flury through your system |
| Your man ran, lucky for him because we missed him |
| We catch him on the rebound but see now |
| We trying to get this money and you trying to stop me |
| What’s it gonna be now? |
| You stand up to my crew and get laid down |
| On the ground with the big four pound, he hear the sound |
| On the other side of town, where caps get peeled |
| Break you off love love, give you something to feel |
| Das Efx, Mobb Deep, niggas holding it down |
| Runnin' fiction-ass MC’s yonder-bound |
| Eager to please rap niggas get back smacked with pist-als |
| Forced to exile, back in the Nile |
| Verse Two: Dray |
| Well now ease up selector, I bring it on again |
| This is for all my niggas doing time up in the fucking pen |
| How y’all been? |
| I can’t forget my niggas who got left back, F that |
| And all my honeys chilling out in Lefrak |
| Sent this, we gets busy with no followers |
| Stomp you then you throw the towel up, make you roll the Owl up |
| Niggas mount up, it’s the Infamous with the Sewer |
| Go to Queens and get my weed for one cent and got a brew, uh |
| Check one two ah, blew ya, out the box like Stella |
| Coming from the under with the thunder like Shelly |
| Really, we coming deep just like the Mobb |
| Nigga, rhyming is my job but you can wind up getting robbed |
| Anyway, in a day, or night it don’t matter |
| It’s me, that nigga P, Havoc and the Jibba Jabba- |
| Jaw, we bring it raw without a doubt |
| It’s the Infamous and Das Efx here to turn it out |
| Verse Three: Havoc |
| Ayo what you gonna do with that black deuce deuce? |
| Hit you up, take the cash, you ain’t slug-proof, duke |
| Taking yours to survive, it’s all a matter of time |
| I’m snatching, living grimey, running never look back |
| The root of evil got me acting like that |
| Life ain’t a game, the streets is mortal combat |
| I wasn’t blessed with the silver spoon |
| Since my born I was doomed, confined to one room |
| Now you’s a customer, copping for natural born hustlers |
| That’s what he thought, son, stupid kid you get extorted |
| Stop smiling, be still don’t nothing move but the money |
| The Infamous gat clappers and mic masters |
| Verse Four: Scoob |
| Well fuck around and I’m a higgity hit ya with hickory diculous |
| Sick a niggas style, twisted off the liquor, bitch |
| I’ll figure it’s the Books, iggity off the hook |
| Holding shit down son, we keeping niggas shook, look |
| I got it made like Florence, fatigue garments |
| My man slipped up and got bagged for three warrants |
| Oh my God, the squiggity squad in the place |
| With the Mobb, niggas can get robbed like Base |
| Taste the terror for the leather in the Beemer |
| The Olde E abuser, can’t fuck with Zima |
| The non-pop singer from the land of rock slingers |
| Where shit is hot and gunsmoke from niggas Glocks lingers |
| I rip shit for fun so come one come all |
| MC’s will get mad, burned like Jamal |
| Live in my television from the cellar to the attic |
| It’s the Books, Krayz Drayz, Prodigy, and fucking Havoc and it don’t stop |