Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Special Ed
Special Ed
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Edward Archer
Edward Archer
Composer
Howard Thompson
Howard Thompson
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Howie Tee
Howie Tee
Producer

Lyrics

I'm gettin' restless What guessless I'm rushin' the percusion End of discusion Now as you were Your rhymes soft like fur Oh' you wright for her Well that explanit it But I reign it, I rule it So cool it, while I school it Listen to percision Rhyming, timing, climbing through your window (Crooklyn style) be in yo Damagin' your whole premises Don't never diss Cause here's your address Cause me by yes, so come test me no Like Patra, I got it soul like Sanatra Organize rhymes in effect Snap that neck, like E-Double if there be trouble So, move on, there's nothing to see here Clear the area Your rhymes are dead, hit the berrier To vary a I'm very a effetive I might add Original rude, since I was a little lad (I neva go back, I neva flowed wack I just come back, I just come phat 2x) I'm pumpin' like Donivan plus I'm a little vicious I eat mcees cause they delicious It's just, that so mistrust but I dust rhymes like a maid Now I'm back with How Stompin' like a parade, all up and down Fifth Ave So you riff have plenty of back, cause I attack, like blood cells Fighting off diseased mcees Like Super Freinds, in a metropolis, in a super Bense With Howie, now we, got two threes Fuck it, six, gimmie the mix, and I'm a kill em' with the lyrics So dig a plot, and nigga got, seven Never doubt, I go all out, scadida You need a map You need a rap You need a slap You need a nap So take one, because your tired I get so phat, I feel wired But I never sell, or fall, cause I never fell I don't beg I break your leg like an egg And fry it try it, and see what happen when I'm rappin' Shit start So don't get smart like Max Cause cold hard facts prevail I don't sell, I don't turn pale But I'm very ill, I'm fatal I rock rhymes like a cradle Many days, many ways, let me count em' Everybody that I caught, everybody thought But but, bu bu but, don't stutta Just say it Shit is budda Now don't that feel betta Get a sweata Cause it's gettin' colda Every time I holda Mic, niggaz freeze up, so eaze up like, off the scrotum Cause you wrote um', like you know dum' So let me show dum', real rhymes Cause I feel I might start buggin', if you don't back up off the mic The lyrical war is on, and so I strike
Writer(s): Howard A. Thompson, Edward K. Archer Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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