I Gotta (Get Down)

I take rap to the pinnacle with my cynical interview Forensics magnify the rhymes, none are identical To the track when it go boom boom bap Bring the Indian rain rap You'll honor the last left, brain rhymer My presence on the mic is water on the rocks in a sauna An uninhabited world of greenery And plus my psychic ability enables me to see That you're not what you seem to be When I drop one watch one land where your man's standin' Might just ram my hand with your teeth But I'm righteous carnivorous I give you a spot to start at Your niggas be like, "You saw that?!" Subconscious brain pain, call it a nightmare Now that I got you seein' the light, STARE Yeah, it's aimin' dead into your retina Not to threaten' ya but just let me KNOW Shoot the shot ya got When every nigga rock the spot I got... to get down (boogie) So many fables from labels it's hard to stay stable But a nigga stay up like seat backs or trey tables At any lecture that I speak at I'm pitifully ridiculin' weak cats For being ridiculous with the shit ya bust I can tell ya sniffin' dust, tryin' to riff with us Nigga, I bust rhymes like pomegranates Fuck around and run the planet Make the underhanded want to panic I'm the fliest on papyrus Look deep into my iris and try to deny US It's religion that I rip the rhythm Got all fans wavin' they hands like hypnotism And the weightless hate this When I fuck around and start rippin' off the top like a rapist While you stand by the mic on the wait list (I'm next man, I'm next) Shoot the shot ya got When every nigga rock the spot I got... to get down (boogie) When it gets hectic a dope fiend will use a Coca Cola can for a smokin' utensil Like I wrote this rap, with a broken pencil I smokes like a freight train One man with eight brains Punch will make a sadomasochist hate pain Wait till I master this Like Plato and? The Audorius? It's likely we fuck with your psyche Developin' mental mic maneuvers to make these marks like me I be a wonder with words Keep my styles inventive, spinnin' at 33 and 1/3 The heard of me in the flats, heard of me in the burbs Studied my etiquette, lyrics embedded in tracks Peep the predicate you better get back My format with raps stay ahead of the wack It's like you're lost in the Sudan, caught in a sand trap And palmin' Anthrax, tell your man, "Stand back" Or I'll apply the pressure by hand man They can't stand that My shit EXPLODE, where ever it land at A nigga got his own sack Wack vulture, hover where the microphone at Shoot the shot ya got When every nigga rock the spot I got... to get down (boogie)