| This nigga take it back like blacksploitation flicks
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| And afros where niggas trying to catch this shit
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| I was «uhh», three years ago
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| If you didn’t know that we keep it fresh like douche
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| If you didn’t know, y’all need that extra push (when y’all up on the mic)
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| We’re rushing through with raw delight
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| We’re dropping that shit while y’all niggas bite
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| Speaking 'bout ya copycats (ya copycats)
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| Ya weak beats and ya sloppy raps (ya sloppy raps)
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| We come though spreading light
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| While ya weak lyrics spread negative hype
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| We kicking true forms of music, sketches of sound increase
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| Niggas try to stop the force, (you know we on course)
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| Thinking that they have the source (when ya catch 'em, show 'em no remorse)
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| Hey man, I’ve got a question for you
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| Can you feel me? |
| Speaking on you wack MC’s
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| Ya saying «Not really», that’s cuz I cut ya hands off
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| Time to set the story straight, brothers looking for their fate
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| You was that nerd fake cat who went to school at Lambda Lambda
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| Trying not to recite the rhymes so you bite the poems
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| I slap your lip, so you talk sideways like Sly Stallone
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| Face the truth, my fists are guided to knock your left tooth
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| Lyrically, ya moms rhymes better than you and she’s deaf mute
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| Step two times to the left, throw up ya fists
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| Direct 'em towards those wack MC’s please as I reminisce
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| You might have more dollars than you have common sense
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| The LP’s stand ground like Hercules
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| Let’s take that fake cat, break back and make black
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| People around the world realize they trying to play us like 8-track
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| I formulate rhymes to educate all those who’s killing
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| Music be the only way to express how I’m feeling
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| Ya conniving like Clinton, with more nerve than, Judge Judy
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| You’d be a good ass looking girl because ya rhymes sound booty
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| But on that subject, on talking bout ya wack MC’s
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| Ya comin' like counterfeit (phony)
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| But back in the days y’all wasn’t no killas, gambinos, or gangsta G’s
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| Y’all up on some other shit
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| (Talkin' bout ya shooting off clips)
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| Yo, we waiting for the Mothership
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| But most of y’all niggas is the reason that half of us brothers have split
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| (Yo, it’s a damn shame)
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| You know I’m kicking true to the game
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| You know I am to keep it real
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| Like my nigga Kaz, I’m letting off battle drills
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| I’m your replacement (replacement)
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| Madlib up in the basement (Madlib up in the basement)
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| Now on that subject,(What you talkin' about, cat?) talking 'bout ya wack
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| MC’s
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| We drop a soundpiece, we keep it, we keep it, we keep it real
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| Not like them fake gangsta G’s
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| I rock the mic and strike while dictating light
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| I’m peaking, you keep weakening like Kryptonite
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| Yo, what I’m tired of, absence of the High Above
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| Niggas riot up, and then blame it on the blaze they’ve fired up
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| So I’m bringing back something that was never lost
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| Cuz you know we can’t just forget about them peeps who’s strictly conscious
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| The 8−0-5 niggas got soul like Kato
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| When you swing I’ll block blows, rock roll the cradle
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| So, ay yo, on beats I’m like the Tazmanian Tornado
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| Wild Child live from the 5 that be 8−0! |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Answers , by - Lootpack. Song from the album Soundpieces: Da Antidote, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп