Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Undisputed Champs, artist - Del The Funky Homosapien. Album song The Best Of Del Tha Funkee Homosapien [The Elektra Years]: The B-Boy Handbook, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 09.02.2004
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Elektra, Rhino Entertainment Company
Song language: English
The Undisputed Champs |
My introduction: |
It’s such an unbelievable pleasure |
For you to treasure; |
And much needed too |
Make it phat though |
on another plateau- |
You begining to begining to groove; |
I do it natural |
As we get Jazzy with classy shit |
To make them hard ass rappers wanna blast me (buck buck) |
Cause I exemplify a typified mac |
In actin like the shit nigga |
Mashin rappers with a passion |
When I get Tip and Tribe flashion lyrics |
I smash your spirits |
Like a big disappointment |
But this here shit will surprise ya |
Devise a plan: |
The pipsqueaks get tweaked |
cause of the size of demand |
So if you wanna measure up |
then press your luck |
Cause when I’m in the cut |
Man there ain’t no catchin up |
I bet ya never heard a nigga with a bigga this flow |
Bigga this bro |
gettin ate like a clitoris? |
No. |
I never could’a seen it- |
I rip a rapper’s balls off |
To make him scream when its convenient. |
Hear ye hear ye |
Clearly we’re the |
Undisputed ones that you get mad at when you hear me |
Pompous comp. |
just barely even registered on the meter |
Cause we the niggas that they checkin for |
Me and you or, you and him |
Ruinin' them |
Doin men in |
When I’m cluing them in |
On the one |
Ya two… three, four |
Now niggas know I got lyrics out the anal |
And any move that you make could be fatal |
The poet that shows it: |
and some of y’all niggas know it when ya |
Grab the mic and you can’t recite |
Yo that gets me irate when ya can’t debate |
But wait- Now ya niggas think that I’m ya runnin' mate? |
Naw phukk that, 'cause when I grab the baton I’m gone (zoom) |
All around the track like a runnin maniac (damn) |
You babblin your babblin son; |
what the phukk? |
Anybody here rap that doesn’t go buck? |
But can you grab the mic and kick ill shit? |
(like) |
Stun’em with the verbs, instead of using clips. |
Check it: I flip styles by the dozen; |
I-could-even- that I was but I wasn’t |
You MC’s are slipping into rigor mortis |
Give it up please |
And just support this; |
I got styles that are legendary |
Even in the clink |
Lyrically I’m like, |
What the phukk you think? |
Cause I’m down with the D-E-L |
So what the hell? |
(Haha!) |
I never come from the temple a simple rap |
Cause your raps poor |
I’m on track |
I lap yours |
Collapse yours |
Elapse forever |
You’re never gonna get better bitin' my friend |
But I lend a hand helping |
MC’s yelping like puppies (Arf! Arf!) |
Their rhymes are simple |
My rhymes are roughed up |
Like a duffle bag |
mags on my wheels squeal |
Peel out towards your head |
While others bust lead |
That’s dead |
I beat your head in the resin when the pipe hits the buds in my |
chamber |
My rhymes are never tamer |
Perpetrators I’ma hurt ya later/after |
On the path of danger |
I got fangs not bangs |
like a bitch which I use to puncture |
With punctuation- |
And mutation |
Racin' like my thoughts |
Bust shots to scatter |
And my latter lets me elevate |
Over MC’s that are hella fake |
My reaction to your rappin' is laughin |
It has been for askin they get their ass kicked |
Cause they’re plastic |
I’m bringing lyrical lacerations |
That you’re tastin |
Painful I mame foes |
Metaphorically |
Historically used the hip hop |
To make your neck pop |
Naw the eyes cause I kick the modern style |
(Modern style, haha!) |
The undisputed ones that you get mad at |
The undisputed ones that you get mad at |
The undisputed ones that you get mad at |
When you. |
.. grab the mike and you can’t recite |