Flexi wit da Tech(nique)

I diss batty bwoys like Buju Banton, rippin wan-tan destruction Sag my pants to stop the suction plus it's quicker when I'm fuckin Split Dutch Master faster I puff izz that causes asthma as dust Some say from NJ, quick to give up papes Beef'll keep it street, defeat niggas who sleep Or reap the concrete status kick your ass with my apparatus Those who, oppose this, split their shit like Moses My written tabs is rippin fags and the whole bit I murder mics and tape decks, so check it while I wrecks it Far from junkies keep it real because I'm hungry like the Bundy's ("Al!!") Got more rumble than thunder crumple chumps like they was paper Eight for keys, make G's, but One of Tame made these Conjunction junction what's your function on the real My mass appeal is real I swim through beats like Navy Seals Irregular, my style, suckers competitors who think they better I knit my skit, like my Grandma's sweater Nuts who want to inflict, harm against the charmer Best to rest their case because I wear medieval armor To protect, my subjects, my style's quite hard Never could you copy cause my style's quite odd Select the best concepts, context to rhyme text Plus a twenty dollar bet, niggas flexi wit da tech "The tech's technique, cause he's a technician" "One two, whatcha gonna do" "The tech's technique, cause he's a technician" "One two, whatcha gonna do" "The tech's technique, cause he's a technician" "One two, whatcha gonna do" "The tech's technique, cause he's a technician" "One two, whatcha gonna do" (Two: El the Sensai, Tame One) I rip rhyme charts apart, I jump-start on the gunner Arrest niggas like Honda from the under never blunder wonder if I get stiff, I'm bound to catch an L Nah never that I'm down with Tame I'm MC El Lately playin Hurricane G demos in my WalkMan I walk and I talk and read issues of The Source and Check out the dreadlocks in Bedrock puffin indo By the branch like plants, and do the cypher dance Then it's back to the set, to write raps about my eps Takin tokes for the stress as I get flexi wit da tech Ah, I whip the lyrics up, like batter chatters on the verge I sink all ships and watch you crabs submerge In depths of the boat doper ropes to distort All sorts of brothers abuse my styles I must abort I do jobs like miles around the necks of the title I win it hands down and pants down cause I'm vital The tech, might you wanna get mad, now freak the plannin Plus I flips it skip the handscans I'm woozy when I'm splifted Yeah still high the ill fly, red-eye rundown a semi Automatic Artifact with knaps causin heart attacks To critics and honeydips who jeered on my l*rics And slept when I dropped that "Do You Wanna Hear It?" Cause from sun-up to sundown, my eyes are red and rundown I still smoke a pound if strong peeps hit the town I'm flexible like every female Huxtable was fuckable Impeccable, dispicable, on point like a decimal Point twice the joint jumper nicest with the mic device Mighty like Isis, gimme boom I rips a crisis with the stress (With the stress) Unless I'm gettin flexi wit da tech "The tech's technique, cause he's a technician" "One two, whatcha gonna do" "The tech's technique, cause he's a technician" "One two, whatcha gonna do" "The tech's technique, cause he's a technician" "One two, whatcha gonna do" "The tech's technique, cause he's a technician" "One two, whatcha gonna do" Shut up, you're talkin too loud, you're talkin too loud Peace to the whole city of Newark "One two, whatcha gonna do"