| The big showdown, the display is skill
|
| I’m the type of guy, so put your girl on the pill
|
| Take a family snap shot, kiss your wife
|
| 'Cause I’m like a knife, the concrete is right
|
| And I’ll take your life and take you like python
|
| I’ma do you wrong
|
| Any emcee, who you wanna name?
|
| I want pain that I can be tamed
|
| Talkin' 'bout guns, punk, it don’t alarm me Got enough cash to make a whole damn army
|
| I can’t hold back the way that I feel
|
| 'Cause when I bust a rhyme it’s like you’re slippin' off banana peels
|
| You’re like fruit cake, your fruit cocktails
|
| First your title now I’m takin' your female
|
| All of a sudden you’re so proud of black
|
| A baseball hat but you ain’t sayin' Jack
|
| The ripper is back and you can’t escape
|
| 'Cause one of my records will sell more than your whole tape
|
| I want beef, bring on the rookies
|
| I got more than just Cool J cookies
|
| Rip Rock, crush, stop
|
| Cop, I’m poison come and take a drop
|
| I bet your teeth will end up around the corner, kid
|
| Don’t ask me why I did it?
|
| I’m civilized damage to a nobody
|
| And I’m carryin' a gun if I’m rhymin' at the party
|
| New York, Chicago, Detroit, L.A.
|
| I’ll slay wherever you play
|
| D.C. or Philly or Baltimore
|
| I’m worryin' the rich, invadin' the poor
|
| Perpetratin' in your video, here’s the real smoothin'
|
| Country accents, who do you think you’re foolin'?
|
| I play crushable, late night craps
|
| You only knew 'cause you onto your raps
|
| And rap city and V E T The channel 31 and but now here I come
|
| To save the day and the now you’re gettin' done
|
| Like a hooker, don’t try to soul, crumb
|
| The first sign of the battle you little fake
|
| It’s comin' out your kitchen sink
|
| Your mic’s a baby bottle, son
|
| Some say they ain’t but I am the one
|
| The slice is that the fire boy, it’ll break you
|
| Servin' or heard em a word occurred to him
|
| Then he could move a would get moved on Like a shotgun blast
|
| Big mouth emcees, I’ll bet you none last
|
| ? |
| Cause they ain’t stable or able
|
| And I boost the party like jumper cables
|
| I’m serial hard so I can battle a-more
|
| From coast to coast fly, cripple, and crazy
|
| Use a dictionary but you still don’t phase me Listen and we can sound cheap
|
| Reach out for my blackness but you represent wackness
|
| You? |
| re bitin' on the castle door
|
| But when you fall in the moat, I won’t see you no more
|
| Let’s get together and diss LL
|
| Use his name and your records might sell
|
| I can’t believe you band of dead maggots
|
| Crawlin' all over my name, I won’t have it You better look in the mirror and re-think your plan
|
| Why walk in quicksand?
|
| When you can stand on your own two feet
|
| I’m rippin' emcees, a funky drum with a big beat
|
| Name the date and a arena
|
| Your three year old ballerina
|
| I can’t believe the suckers try to throwdown
|
| Whether you’re new or older than motown
|
| Just kick back
|
| I don’t like a stagger wagger psycho rap
|
| You can’t handle the format
|
| Whether you’re swab or swoon
|
| Ruff or rugged, all I need is a broom
|
| If I slay the way they slay, punk, play the pay
|
| Mr. Morris has entered the buffet
|
| Some of y’all are sittin' in rows
|
| Plates of the hot butter rolls
|
| Beat your with boloney, slap you with salami
|
| 'Cause when I get hot I get hot like pastrami
|
| Then I make you wonder
|
| Why you don’t hear bass but you feel the thunder
|
| You get cooked, I’ll knock out your tooth
|
| We’ll be fightin' from lobby to the roof
|
| You are on me like I wrote your dinnertime
|
| Yo, Marley, whassup? |
| Spill the time
|
| Nah man, just kick a little warmth
|
| Pass the brass knuckles then we break his jaw
|
| When I’m on the microphone I want silence
|
| Let KRS-One stop the violence
|
| Ain’t no rivals, ain’t no competition
|
| Punk, I’m beatin' you into submission
|
| I’m gettin' busier than ever before
|
| Never more will I’ll slack, I’ma keep it real raw
|
| Eat you up like a pack-jam
|
| Video for poppin' over a Batman
|
| Rippin' you to shreds, tappin' you on the head
|
| Then leave the battle lookin' as happy as a newly wed
|
| Give me a Tech-9 to spray
|
| Save the peep and put it on lay away
|
| I’ll make a major main event and send a jam, the fans will understand
|
| Then you weep about the murdergram |